THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


CKPT.  CHKRLES    KING'S 

POPULAR  MILITARY  NOVELS. 


THE  COLONEL'S  DAUGHTER. 
i2mo.     Extra  cloth.     $1.25. 

MARION'S  FAITH. 

i2mo.     Extra  cloth.     $1.25. 

STARLIGHT  RANCH,  and  Other  Stories. 
i2mo.     Cloth.     $1.00. 

KITTY'S  CONQUEST. 

I2mo.     Extra  cloth.    $1.00. 

LARAMIE;  or,  The  Queen  of  Bedlam. 
i2ino.     Cloth.     $1.25. 

THE  DESERTER,  and  FROM  THE  RANKS. 
i2mo.     Extra  cloth.     $i  oo. 

TWO  SOLDIERS,  and  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 
i2mo.     Extra  cloth.     $i  oo. 


"  It  is  a  relief,  indeed,  to  turn  from  the  dismal  intro 
spection  of  much  of  our  modern  fiction  to  the  fresh 
naturalness  of  such  stories  as  these." — N.  Y.  Critic. 

"  No  military  novels  of  the  day  rival  those  of  Capt. 
King  in  precision  and  popularity." — Boston  Courier. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT   COMPANY,  Publishers, 

PHILADELPHIA. 


TWO  SOLDIERS, 


AND 


DUNRAVEN   RANCH 


TWO  NOVELS. 

• 

BY 

CAPT.  CHARLES   KING,  U.S.A., 

AUTHOR   OF   "THE   COLONEL'S    DAUGHTER,"    "MARION'S    FAITH,"    "KITTY'S 
CONQUEST,"    ETC.,  ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT    COMPANY. 

1892. 


Copyright,  1888,  by  J.  B.  LiPPiNCOTT  COMPANY. 


Copyright,  1890,  by  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY. 


•     TWO  SOLDIERS 


818879 


TWO   SOLDIERS. 


I. 

rain  was  plashing  dismally  on  the  grimy  window-sill  and  over 
JL  the  awning  of  the  shops  below.  The  street-cars  went  jingling  by 
with  a  dripping  load  of  outside  passengers  on  both  platforms.  Wagons 
and  drays,  cabs  and  closed  carriages,  that  rattled  or  rumbled  along 
the  ordinarily  busy  thoroughfare,  looked  as  though  they  had  been 
dipped  in  the  river  before  being  turned  loose  on  the  street,  and  their 
Jehus,  af  bedraggled  lot,  must  needs  have  had  something  amphibious 
in  their  composition,  else  they  could  not  have  borne  up  against  the 
deluge  that  had  been  soaking  the  city  for  two  days  past.  The  police 
man,  waddling  aimlessly  about  at  the  opposite  corner,  enveloped  in 
rubber  cap  and  overcoat,  cast  occasional  wistful  glances  into  the  bar-room 
across  the  way,  wherein  the  gas  was  burning  in  deference  to  the  general 
gloom  that  overhung  the  neighborhood,  and  such  pedestrians  as  had  to 
be  abroad  hurried  along  under  their  umbrellas  as  though  they  half 
expected  to  have  to  swim  before  they  could  reach  their  destination. 
The  dense  cloud  of  sooty  smoke  that  had  overhung  the  metropolis  for 
weeks  past,  and  that  wind  from  any  direction  could  never  entirely  dis 
sipate,  for  the  simple  reason  that  smoke-stacks  by  the  score  shot  up  iii 
the  outskirts  on  every  side,  now  seemed  to  be  hurled  upon  the  roofs 
and  walls,  the  windows  and  the  pavement,  in  a  black,  pasty,  carbo 
niferous  deposit,  and  every  object  out  of  doors  that  one  could  touch 
would  leave  its  inky  response  upon  the  hand.  A  more  depressing 
"  spell  of  weather"  had  not  been  known  for  a  year,  and  every  living 
being  in  sight  seemed  saturated  with  the  general  gloom, — every  living 
being  except  one :  Captain  Fred  Lane,  of  the  Eleventh  Cavalry,  was 
sitting  at  the  dingy  window  of  his  office  in  the  recruiting  rendezvous 
on  Sycamore  Street  and  actually  whistling  softly  to  himself  in  supreme 
contentment. 

1*  5 


6  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

Two  missives  had  reached  him  that  ghastly  morning  that  had  served 
to  make  him  impervious  to  wind  or  weather.  One — large,  formal,  im 
pressive,  and  bearing  the  stamp  of  the  War  Department  in  heavy  type 
across  its  upper  corner — had  borne  to  him  the  notification  of  his  pro 
motion  to  the  rank  of  Captain  (Troop  D)  Eleventh  Cavalry,  vice 
Curran,  retired.  The  other — a  tiny  billet — had  given  him  even  greater 
happiness.  It  might  be  hard  to  say  how  many  times  he  had  read  and 
re-read  it  since  he  found  it  on  the  snowy  cloth  of  his  particular  break 
fast-table  in  his  particular  corner  of  the  snug  refectory  of  "  The  Queen 
City,"  on  the  books  of  which  most  respectable  if  somewhat  venerable 
club  his  name  had  been  borne  among  the  list  of  Army  or  Navy  Mem 
bers  ever  since  his  "  graduation-leave,"  fifteen  years  before. 

All  his  boyhood,  up  to  the  time  of  his  winning  his  cadetship  at 
West  Point,  had  been  spent  in  the  city  where  for  the  past  sixteen 
months  he  had  considered  himself  fortunate  in  being  stationed  on  re 
cruiting-service.  During  the  second  year  of  his  term  at  the  Academy 
he  was  startled  by  the  receipt  of  a  sad  letter  from  his  mother,  telling 
him  briefly  that  his  father,  long  one  of  the  best-known  among  the 
business-men  of  the  city,  had  been  compelled  to  make  an  assignment. 
What  was  worse,  he  had  utterly  broken  down  under  the  strain,  and  would 
probably  never  be  himself  again.  Proud,  sensitive,  and  honorable,  Mr. 
Lane  had  insisted  on  paying  to  the  uttermost  farthing  of  his  means. 
Even  the  old  homestead  went,  and  the  broken-hearted  man  retired  with 
his  faithful  wife  to  a  humble  roof  in  the  suburbs.  There,  a  few  mouths 
afterwards,  he  breathed  his  last,  and  there,  during  Fred's  graduating 
year,  she  followed  him.  When  the  boy  entered  on  his  career  in  the 
army  he  was  practically  alone  in  the  world.  Out  of  the  wreck  of  his 
father's  fortune  there  came  to  him  a  little  sum  that  started  him  in  the 
service  free  from  debt  and  that  served  as  a  nest-egg  to  attract  future 
accumulations.  This  he  had  promptly  banked  until  some  good  and 
safe  investment  should  present  itself,  and,  once  with  his  regiment  on 
the  frontier,  Mr.  Lane  had  found  his  pay  ample  for  all  his  needs. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  recount  the  history  of  his  fifteen  years'  service 
as  a  subaltern.  Suffice  it  to  say  that,  steering  clear  of  most  of  the 
temptations  to  which  young  officers  were  subjected,  he  had  won  a  repu 
tation  as  a  capital  "  duty-officer,"  that  was  accented  here  and  there  by 
some  brilliant  and  dashing  exploits  in  the  numerous  Indian  cam 
paigns  through  which  the  Eleventh  had  passed  with  no  small  credit. 
Lane  was  never  one  of  the  jovial  souls  of  the  regiment.  His  mood 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  7 

was  rather  taciturn  and  contemplative.  He  read  a  good  deal,  and  spent 
many  days  in  the  saddle  exploring  the  country  in  the  neighborhood  of 
his  post  and  in  hunting  and  fishing. 

But,  from  the  colonel  down,  there  was  not  a  man  in  the  Eleventh 
who  did  not  thoroughly  respect  and  like  him.  Among  the  ladies,  how 
ever,  there  were  one  or  two  who  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  giving  the 
lieutenant  a  feline  and  not  ineffective  clawing  when  his  name  came  up 
for  discussion  in  the  feminine  conclaves  occasionally  held  in  the  regi 
ment.  Sometimes,  too,  when  opportunity  served,  he  was  made  the  victim 
of  some  sharp  or  sarcastic  speech  that  was  not  always  easy  to  bear  in 
silence.  Mrs.  Judson,  wife  of  the  captain  of  B  Troop,  was  reputed  to 
be  "down  on  Lane,"  and  the  men  had  no  difficulty  whatever  in  locating 
the  time  when  her  change  of  heart  took  place. 

The  truth  of  the  matter  was  that,  thanks  to  simple  habits  and 
to  his  sense  of  economy,  Lane  had  quite  a  snug  little  balance  in  the 
bank,  and  the  ladies  of  the  regiment  believed  it  to  be  bigger  than  it 
really  was ;  and,  having  approved  the  furnishing  and  fitting  up  of  his 
quarter^,  the  next  thing,  of  course,  that  they  essayed  to  do  was  to 
provide  him  with  a  wife.  There  the  trouble  began.  Simultaneously 
with  the  arrival  of  his  first  bar  as  a  first  lieutenant  there  came 
from  the  distant  East  Mrs.  Judson's  younger  sister  "  Emmy"  and 
Mrs.  Loring's  pretty  niece  Pansy  Fletcher.  Lane  was  prompt  to 
call  on  both,  to  take  the  young  ladies  driving  or  riding,  to  be  attentive 
and  courteous  in  every  way  ;  but,  while  he  did  thus  "  perceive  a  divided 
duty,"  what  was  Mrs.  Loring's  horror  on  discovering  that  pretty 
Pansy  had  fallen  rapturously  in  love  with  "Jerry"  Lattimore,  as 
handsome,  reckless,  and  impecunious  a  young  dragoon  as  ever  lived, 
and  nothing  but  prompt  measures  prevented  their  marriage!  Miss 
Fletcher  was  suddenly  re-transported  to  the  East,  whither  Jerry  was 
too  hard  up  to  follow;  and  then,  in  bitterness  of  heart,  Mrs.  Loring 
blamed  poor  Fred  for  the  whole  transaction.  "  Why  had  he  held 
aloof  and  allowed  that — that  scamp — that  ne'er-do-weel — to  cut  in  and 
win  that  innocent  child's  heart,  as  he  certainly  did  do?"  Against 
Lattimore  the  vials  of  her  wrath  were  emptied  coram  publico,  but 
against  Lane  she  could  not  talk  so  openly. 

Mrs.  Judson  had  beheld  the  sudden  departure  of  Miss  Pansy  with 
an  equanimity  she  could  barely  disguise.  Indeed,  there  were  not  lack 
ing  good  Christians  in  the  garrison  who  pointed  significantly  to  the 
fact  that  she  had  almost  too  hospitably  opened  her  doors  to  Miss 


8  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

Fletcher  and  her  lover  during  that  brief  but  volcanic  romance.  Certain 
it  is,  however,  that  it  was  in  her  house  and  in  a  certain  little  nook  off 
the  sitting-room  that  their  long,  delicious  meetings  occurred  almost 
daily,  the  lady  of  the  house  being  busy  about  the  dining-room,  the 
kitchen,  or  the  chambers  overhead,  and  Emmy,  who  was  a  good  girl, 
but  densely  uninteresting,  strumming  on  the  piano  or  yawning  over  a 
book  at  the  front  window. 

"  What  Mr.  Lane  needs  is  a  gentle,  modest,  domestic  little  woman 
who  will  make  his  home  a  restful,  peaceful  refuge  always,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson  ;  and,  inferentially,  Emmy  was  the  gentle  and  modest  creature 
who  was  destined  so  to  bless  him.  The  invitations  to  tea,  the  lures  by 
which  he  was  induced  to  become  Emmy's  escort  to  all  the  hops  and 
dances,  redoubled  themselves  after  Miss  Fletcher's  departure ;  but  it 
was  all  in  vain.  Without  feeling  any  particular  affinity  for  Mr. 
Lane,  Emmy  stood  ready  to  say  "  Yes"  whensoever  he  should  ask  ; 
but  weeks  went  on,  he  never  seemed  to  draw  nearer  the  subject, 
and  just  as  Mrs.  Judson  had  determined  to  resort  to  heroic  measures 
and  point  out  that  his  attentions  to  Emmy  had  excited  the  remark 
of  the  entire  garrison,  and  that  the  poor  child  herself  was  looking  wan 
and  strange,  there  was  a  stage-robbery  not  twenty  miles  from  the 
post.  Lane,  with  fifteen  troopers,  was  sent  in  pursuit  of  the  des 
peradoes,  and  captured  them,  after  a  sharp  fight,  ninety  miles  up  the 
river  and  near  the  little  infantry  cantonment  at  the  Indian  reserva 
tion  ;  and  thither  the  lieutenant  was  carried  with  a  bullet  through 
his  thigh.  By  the  time  he  was  well  enough  to  ride,  the  regiment  was 
again  in  the  field  on  Indian  campaign,  and  for  six  months  he  never  saw 
Fort  Curtis  again.  When  he  did,  Emmy  had  gone  home,  and  Mrs 
Judson's  politeness  was  something  awful. 

Lane  was  out  with  the  Eleventh  again  in  three  more  sharp  and 
severe  campaigns,  received  an  ugly  bullet- wound  through  the  left  shoul 
der  in  the  memorable  chase  after  Chief  Joseph,  was  quartermaster 
of  his  regiment  a  year  after  that  episode,  then  adjutant,  and  finally  was 
given  the  recruiting-detail  as  he  neared  the  top  of  the  list  of  first  lieu 
tenants,  and,  for  the  first  time  in  fifteen  years,  found  himself  once 
more  among  the  friends  of  his  youth, — and  still  a  bachelor. 

Securing  pleasant  quarters  in  the  adjoining  street,  Mr.  Lane  speedily 
made  himself  known  at  the  club  to  which  he  had  been  paying  his  mod 
erate  annual  dues  without  having  seen  anything  of  it  but  its  bills  for 
years  past,  yet  never  knowing  just  when  he  might  want  to  drop  in. 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  9 

Then  he  proceeded,  after  office  hours,  to  hunt  up  old  chums,  and 
in  the  course  of  the  first  week  after  his  arrival  he  had  found  almost 
all  of  them.  Bailey,  who  sat  next  him  in  school,  was  now  a  promi 
nent  and  prosperous  lawyer.  Terry,  who  sat  just  behind  him  and 
occasionally  inserted  crooked  pins  in  a  convenient  crack  in  his  chair, 
was  thriving  in  the  iron  business.  Warden  had  made  a  fortune  "  on 
'Change,"  and  was  one  of  the  leading  brokers  and  commission-mer 
chants  of  the  metropolis.  He  had  always  liked  Warden :  they  lived 
close  together,  and  used  to  walk  to  and  from  school  with  each  other 
almost  every  day.  Mr.  Lane  had  started  on  his  quest  with  a  feeling 
akin  to  enthusiasm.  Calm  and  reticent  and  retiring  as  he  generally 
was,  he  felt  a  glow  of  delight  at  the  prospect  of  once  more  meeting 
"the  old  crowd;"  but  that  evening  he  returned  to  his  rooms  with  a 
distinct  sense  of  disappointment.  Bailey  had  jumped  up  and  shaken 
hands  with  much  effusion  of  manner,  and  had  "  my-dear-fellow"-ed  him 
for  a  minute  or  two,  and  then,  "  Now,  where  are  you  stopping  ?  I'll 
be  round  to  look  you  up  the  very  first  evening  I  can  get  away,  and 
— of  course  we'll  have  you  at  the  house ;"  but  Lane  clearly  saw  he 
was  eager  to  get  back  to  his  desk,  and  so  took  his  leave.  Terry  did 
not  know  him  at  all  until  he  began  to  laugh,  and  then  he  blandly  in 
quired  what  he'd  been  doing  with  himself  all  these  years.  But  the 
man  who  rasped  him  from  top  to  toe  was  Warden.  Business  hours 
were  over,  and  their  meeting  occurred  at  the  club.  Two  minutes  after 
they  had  shaken  hands,  Warden  was  standing  with  his  back  to  the 
log  fire,  his  thumbs  in  the  arm-holes  of  his  waistcoat,  tilting  on  his 
toes,  his  head  well  back,  and  most  affably  and  distinctly  patronizing 
him. 

"  Well,  Fred,  you're  still  in  the  army,  are  you  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Still  in  the  army,  Warden." 

"  Well,  what  on  earth  do  you  find  to  do  with  yourself  out  there  ? 
How  do  you  manage  to  kill  time?" 

"  Time  never  hung  heavily  on  my  hands.     It  often  happened  that 
there  wasn't  half  enough  for  all  we  had  to  do." 

"  You  don't  tell  me !     Why,  I  supposed  that  about  all  you  did  was 
to  drink  and  play  poker." 

"  Not  an  unusual  idea,  I  find,  Warden,  but  a  very  unjust  one." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know,  of  course,  you  have  some  Indian-fighting  to  do 
once  in  a  while ;  but  that  probably  amounts  to  very  little.     I  mean 
when  you're  in  permanent  camp  or  garrison.     I  should  think  a  man  of 
A* 


10  TWO  SOLDIERS 

your  temperament  would  just  stagnate  in  such  a  life.  I  wonder  you 
hadn't  resigned  years  ago  and  come  here  and  made  a  name  for  your 
self." 

"  The  life  has  been  rather  more  brisk  than  you  imagine,"  he  an 
swered,  with  a  quiet  smile,  "  and  I  have  grown  very  fond  of  my  pro 
fession.  But  you  speak  of  making  a  name  for  myself.  Now,  in  what 
would  that  have  consisted  ?" 

"  Oh,  well,  of  course,  if  you  really  like  the  army  and  living  in  a 
desert  and  that  sort  of  thing,  I've  nothing  to  say,"  said  Warden  ;  "  but 
it  always  struck  me  as  such  a — such  a — well,  Fred,  such  a  wasted  life, 
all  very  well  for  fellows  who  hadn't  brains  or  energy  enough  to  achieve 
success  in  the  real  battle  of  life"  (and  here  Warden  was  "  swelling  visi 
bly"),  "  but  not  at  all  the  thing  for  a  man  of  your  ability.  We  all 
conceded  at  school  that  you  were  head  and  shoulders  above  the  rest  of 
us.  We  were  talking  of  it  some  years  ago  here  in  this  very  room : 
there'd  been  something  about  you  in  the  papers, — some  general  or  other 
had  mentioned  you  in  a  report.  Let's  see :  didn't  you  get  wounded, 
or  something,  chasing  some  Indians?"  Lane  replied  that  he  believed 
that  "  something  like  that  had  happened,"  but  begged  his  friend  to  go 
on ;  and  Warden  proceeded  to  further  expound  his  views : 

"  Now,  you  might  have  resigned  years  ago,  taken  hold  of  your 
father's  old  business,  and  made  a  fortune.  There's  been  a  perfect  boom 
in  railroad  iron  and  every  other  kind  of  iron  since  that  panic  of  '73. 
Look  at  Terry  :  he  is  rolling  in  money, — one  of  our  most  substantial 
men ;  and  you  know  he  was  a  mere  drone  at  school.  Why,  Fred, 
if  your  father  could  have  held  on  six  months  longer  he'd  have  been 
the  richest  man  in  town  to-day.  It  always  seemed  to  me  that  he  made 
such  a  mistake  in  not  getting  his  friends  to  help  him  tide  things  over." 

"  You  probably  are  not  aware,"  was  the  reply,  "  that  he  went  to 
friend  after  friend, — so  called, — and  that  it  was  their  failure  or  refusal 
to  help  that  broke  him  down.  The  most  active  man  in  pushing  him 
to  the  wall,  I  am  told,  was  Terry's  father,  who  had  formerly  been  his 
chief  clerk." 

"  Well,"  answered  Warden,  in  some  little  confusion,  for  this  and 
other  matters  in  connection  with  the  failure  of  Samuel  Lane  &  Co., 
years  before,  were  now  suddenly  recalled  to  mind,  "  that's  probably  true. 
Business  is  business,  you  know,  and  those  were  tough  times  in  the 
money  market.  Still,  you  could  have  come  back  here  when  you  left 
West  Point,  and  built  up  that  concern  again,  and  been  a  big  man 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  11 

to-day, — had  your  own  establishment  here,  married  some  rich  girl — 
you're  not  married,  are  you  ?" 

Lane  shook  his  head. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  then,  you've  been  fooling  away  all  this  time  in 
the  army,  and  what  have  you  got  to  show  for  it  ?" 

"Nothing — to  speak  of,"  was  the  half-whimsical,  half-serioua 
answer. 

"  Well,  there  !  Now  don't  you  see  ?  That's  just  what  I'm  driving 
at.  You've  thrown  away  your  opportunities. — All  right,  Strong  :  I'll 
be  with  you  in  a  minute,"  he  called  to  a  man  who  was  signalling  to  him 
from  the  stairway.  "  Come  in  and  see  us,  Fred.  Come  and  dine  with 
us, — any  day.  We're  always  ready  for  friends  who  drop  in.  I  want 
you  to  meet  Mrs.  Warden  and  see  my  house.  Now  excuse  me,  will  you  ? 
I  have  to  take  a  hand  at  whist."  And  so  away  went  W'arden,  leaving 
Lane  to  walk  homeward  and  think  over  the  experiences  of  the  day. 

He  had  "  made  a  name  for  himself"  that  was  well  known  from  the 
Yellowstone  to  the  Colorado.  Thrice  had  that  name  been  sent  to  the 
President  with  the  recommendation  of  his  department  commander  for 
brevets'  for  conspicuous  and  gallant  conduct  in  action  against  hostile 
Indians.  The  Pacific  coast  had  made  him  welcome.  Busy  San  Fran 
cisco  had  found  time  to  read  the  Alta's  and  the  Chronicle's  correspond 
ence  from  the  scene  of  hostilities,  and  cordially  shook  hands  with  the 
young  officer  who  had  been  so  prominent  in  more  than  one  campaign. 
Santa  Fe~  and  San  Antonio,  Denver,  Cheyenne,  and  Miles  City,  were 
points  where  he  could  not  go  without  meeting  "  troops  of  friends."  It 
was  only  when  he  got  back  to  his  old  home  in  the  East  that  the  lieu 
tenant  found  his  name  associated  only  with  his  father's  failure,  and  that 
his  years  of  honorable  service  conveyed  no  interest  to  the  friends  of  his 
youth.  "  Money  makes  the  mare  go,"  said  Mr.  Warden,  in  a  subsequent 
conversation  ;  and  money,  it  seems,  was  what  he  meant  in  telling  Lane 
he  should  have  come  home  and  "  made  a  name  for  himself." 

Lane  had  been  on  duty  a  year  in  the  city  when  a  rumor  began 
to  circulate,  to  the  effect  that  investments  of  his  in  mining  stocks 
had  brought  him  large  returns,  and  men  at  the  club  and  matronly 
women  at  the  few  parties  he  attended  began  ask  ing  significant  questions 
which  now  it  pleased  him  to  parry  rather  than  answer  directly.  His 
twelve  months'  experiences  in  society  had  developed  in  him  a  somewhat 
sardonic  vein  of  humor  and  made  him,  if  anything,  more  reticent  than 
before.  And  then— then  all  of  a  sudden  there  came  over  the  spirit  ot 


12  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

his  dream  a  marked  and  wondrous  change.  He  no  longer  declined  in 
vitations  to  balls,  parties,  or  dinners  when  he  knew  that  certain  persona 
were  to  he  present.  Mabel  Vincent  had  jnst  returned  from  a  year's  tour 
abroad,  and  Lieutenant  Fred  Lane  had  fallen  in  love  at  first  sight. 

It  was  a  note  from  her  that  made  even  that  dingy  old  office,  on 
this  most  dismal  of  days,  fairly  glow  and  shine  with  a  radiance  of 
hope,  with  a  halo  of  joy  and  gladness  such  as  his  lonely  life  had  never 
known  before.  The  very  first  time  he  ever  saw  himself  addressed  as 
Captain  Fred  Lane,  Eleventh  Cavalry,  was  in  her  dainty  hand.  He 
turned  his  chair  to  the  window  to  read  once  again  the  precious  words ; 
but  there  entered,  dripping,  a  Western  Union  messenger  with  a  telegram. 

Tearing  it  open,  Lane  read  these  words  :  "  All  join  in  congratula 
tions  on  your  promotion  and  in  wonderment  at  the  colonel's  selection 
of  your  successor.  Noel  is  named." 

Lane  gave  a  long  whistle  of  amazement.  "Of  all  men  in  the  regi 
ment  1"  he  exclaimed.  "  Who  would  have  thought  of  Gordon  Noel  ?" 


II. 

The  colonel  of  the  Eleventh  Cavalry  was  a  gentleman  who  had 
some  peculiarities  of  temperament  and  disposition.  This  fact  is  not 
cited  as  a  thing  at  all  unusual,  for  the  unbiassed  testimony  of  the 
subalterns  and  even  the  troop  commanders  of  every  cavalry  regiment 
in  service  would  go  far  towards  establishing  the  fact  that  all  colonels 
of  cavalry  are  similarly  afflicted.  One  of  the  salient  peculiarities  of 
the  commanding  officer  of  the  Eleventh  was  a  conviction  that  nothing 
went  smoothly  in  the  regiment  unless  the  captains  were  all  on  duty 
with  their  companies  ;  for,  while  at  any  time  Colonel  Riggs  would  ap 
prove  an  application  for  a  lieutenant's  leave  of  absence,  it  was  worse 
than  pulling  teeth  to  get  him  to  do  likewise  for  a  gentleman  with  the 
double  bars  on  his  shoulder.  "  Confound  the  man  !"  growled  Captain 
Greene, "  here  I've  been  seven  years  with  my  troop,  saving  up  for  a 
six  months'  leave,  and  the  old  rip  disapproves  it !  What  on  earth  can 
a  fellow  say  ?" 

"You  didn't  go  about  it  right,  Greeney,"  was  the  calm  rejoinder 
of  a  comrade  who  had  been  similarly  "  cut"  the  year  previous.  "  You 
should  have  laid  siege  to  him  through  Madame  a  month  or  so.  What 
she  says  as  to  who  goes  on  leave  and  who  doesn't  is  law  at  head-quar 
ters,  and  I  know  it.  Now,  you  watch  Noel.  That  fellow  is  wiser  in 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  13 

his  generation  than  all  the  rest  of  us  put  together.  It  isn't  six  months 
since  he  got  back  from  his  staff  detail,  and  you  see  how  constant  he  is 
in  his  attentions  to  the  old  lady.  Now,  I'll  bet  you  anything  you  like 
the  next  plum  that  tumbles  into  the  regiment  will  go  to  his  maw  and 
nobody  else's." 

"  Riggs  wouldn't  have  the  face  to  give  anything  to  Noel, — in  the 
way  of  detached  duty,  I  mean.  I  heard  him  say  when  '  Gordy'  waa 
coming  back  to  the  regiment  that  he  wished  he  had  the  power  to  trans 
fer  subs  from  troop  to  troop :  he'd  put  Noel  with  the  most  exacting 
captain  he  knew  and  see  if  he  couldn't  get  a  little  square  service  out 
of  the  fellow." 

"  That's  all  right,  Greene.  That's  what  he  said  six  months  ago, 
before  Noel  was  really  back,  and  before  he  had  begun  doing  the  de 
voted  to  her  ladyship  at  head-quarters.  Riggs  wouldn't  say  so  now, 
— much  less  do  it.  She  wouldn't  let  him,  comrade  mine;  and  you 
know  it." 

"  Noel  has  been  doing  first-rate  since  he  got  back,  Jim,"  said  Cap 
tain  Greene,  after  a  pause. 

"  On,  Noel's  no  bad  soldier  in  garrison, — at  drill  or  parade.  It's 
field-work  and  scouting  that  knocks  iiim  endwise;  and  if  there's  an 

Indian  within  a  hundred  miles Well,  you  know  as  much  as  I  do 

on  that  subject." 

Greene  somewhat  gloomily  nodded  aasent,  and  his  companion,  being 
wound  up  for  the  day,  plunged  ahead  with  his  remarks : 

"  Now,  I'm  just  putting  this  and  that  together,  Greene,  and  I'll 
make  you  a  bet.  Riggs  has  managed  things  ever  since  he  has  been 
colonel  so  that  a  lieutenant  is  ordered  detached  for  recruiting-service 
and  never  a  captain.  It  won't  be  long  before  Lane  gets  his  promotion  ; 
and  I'll  bet  you  that  even  before  he  gets  it  Riggs  will  have  his  letter 
skimming  to  Washington  begging  his  immediate  recall  and  nominating 
a  sub  to  take  his  place.  I'll  give  you  odds  on  that ;  and  I'll  bet  you 
even  that  the  sub  he  names  will  be  Gordy  Noel." 

But,  though  he  scouted  the  idea,  Greene  would  not  l»et,  for  at  that 
instant  the  club-room  was  invaded  by  a  rush  of  young  officers  just 
returning  from  target-practice,  and  the  jolliest  laugh,  the  most  all- 
pervading  voice,  the  cheeriest  personality,  of  the  lot  were  those  of  the 
gentleman  whose  name  Captain  Jim  Rawlins  had  just  spoken. 

"  What  you  going  to  have,  fellows?"  he  called.  "  Here,  Billy,  old 
man,  put  up  that  spelter:  I  steered  the  gang  in  here,  and  it's  my  treat. 

2 


14  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

Dvrii  go,  Forbes ;  come  back,  old  fellow,  and  join  us.  Captain,  what 
shall  it  be?  Say,  you  all  know  Dick  Cassidy  of  the  Seventh? 
I  heard  such  a  good  rig  on  him  this  morning.  I  got  a  letter  from 
Tommy  Craig,  who's  on  duty  at  the  War  Department,  and  he  told  me 
that  Dick  was  there  trying  to  get  one  of  these  blasted  college  details. 
What  d'ye  suppose  a  cavalryman  wants  to  leave  his  regiment  for,  to 
take  a  thing  like  that?" 

"  Perhaps  his  health  is  impaired,  Noel,"  said  Wharton,  with  a 
humorous  twinkle  in  his  handsome  eyes.  "Even  cavalrymen  have 
been  known  to  have  to  quit  their  beloved  profession  on  that  account 
and  get  something  soft  in  the  East  for  a  year  or  so." 

The  color  mounted  to  Noel's  cheeks,  but  he  gave  no  other  sign 
of  understanding  the  shaft  as  aimed  at  him.  Promptly  and  loudly  as 
ever  he  spoke  out : 

"  Oh,  of  course,  if  he's  used  up  in  service  and  has  to  go  in  to  re 
cuperate,  all  well  and  good ;  but  I  always  supposed  Cassidy  was  a 
stalwart  in  point  of  health  and  constitution.  Who's  going  to  the  doctor's 
to-night?— you,  Jack?" 

Jack — otherwise  Lieutenant  John  Tracy — shook  his  head  as  he 
whiffed  at  the  cigarette  he  had  just  lighted  and  then  stretched  forth  his 
hand  for  the  foaming  glass  of  beer  which  the  attendant  brought  him, 
but  vouchsafed  no  verbal  reply.  Lee  and  Martin  edged  over  to  where 
the  two  captains  were  playing  their  inevitable  game  of  seven -.up.  Two 
of  the  juniors, — young  second  lieutenants, — despite  the  extreme  cor 
diality  of  Noel's  invitation,  begged  to  be  excused,  as  they  did  not  care 
to  drink  anything, — even  a  lemonade  ;  and  no  sooner  had  the  party  fin 
ished  their  modest  potation  than  there  was  a  general  move.  Wallace 
and  Hearn  went  in  to  the  billiard-room ;  Wharton  and  Lee  started 
in  the  direction  of  their  quarters;  and  presently  Mr.  Noel  was  the  only 
man  in  the  club-room  without  an  occupation  of  some  kind  or  a  comrade 
to  talk  to. 

Now,  why  should  this  have  been  the  case?  Noel's  whole  manner 
was  overflow! ng  with  jollity  and  kindliness;  his  eyes  beamed  and 
sparkled  as  he  looked  from  one  man  to  the  other;  he  hailed  each  in 
turn  by  his  Christian  name  and  in  tones  of  most  cordial  friendship  ; 
he  chatted  and  laughed  and  had  comical  anecdotes  to  tell  the  party ; 
he  was  a  tall,  stylish,  fine-looking  fellow,  with  expressive  dark  eyes 
and  wavy  dark-brown  hair ;  his  moustache  was  the  secret  envy  of 
more  than  half  his  associates ;  his  figure  was  really  elegant  in  its  grace 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  15 

and  suppleness ;  his  uniforms  fitted  him  like  a  glove,  and  were  invariably 
of  Hatfield's  choicest  handiwork.  Appearances  were  with  him  in  every 
sense  of  the  word ;  and  yet  there  was  some  reason  why  his  society  was 
politely  but  positively  shunned  by  several  of  his  brother  officers  and 
"  cultivated"  by  none. 

It  was  only  a  few  years  after  the  great  war  when  Gordon  Noel 
joined  the  Eleventh  from  civil  L*e.  He  came  of  an  old  and  influen 
tial  family,  and  was  welcomed  in  the  regiment  as  an  acquisition.  He 
made  friends  rapidly,  and  was  for  two  or  three  years  as  popular  a 
youngster  as  there  was  in  the  service.  Then  the  troop  to  which  he  was 
attached  was  ordered  to  the  Plains,  via  Leaven  worth.  It  was  a  long 
journey  by  boat,  and  by  the  time  they  reached  the  old  frontier  city 
orders  and  telegrams  were  awaiting  them,  one  of  which,  apparently  to 
Mr.  Noel's  great  surprise,  detached  him  from  his  company  and  directed 
him  to  report  for  temporary  duty  at  the  War  Department  in  the  city 
of  Washington.  He  was  there  eighteen  months,  during  which  time 
his  regiment  had  some  sharp  battles  with  the  Cheyennes  and  Kiowas 
in  Kansas  and  the  Indian  Territory.  Then  a  new  Secretary  of  War 
gave  ea'r  to  the  oft-repeated  appeals  of  the  colonel  of  the  Eleventh  to 
have  Mr.  Noel  and  one  or  two  other  detached  gentlemen  returned  to 
duty  with  their  respective  companies,  and  just  as  they  were  moving  to 
the  Pacific  coast  the  absentees  reported  for  duty  and  went  along.  At 
Vancouver  and  Walla  Walla  Noel  seemed  to  regain  by  his  joviality 
and  good-fellowship  what  he  had  lost  in  the  year  and  a  half  of  his 
absence,  though  there  were  out-and-out  soldiers  in  the  Eleventh  who 
said  that  the  man  who  would  stay  on  "  fancy  duty"  in  Washington  or 
anywhere  else  while  his  comrades  were  in  the  midst  of  a  stirring  cam 
paign  against  hostile  Indians  couldn't  be  of  the  right  sort. 

Up  in  Oregon  the  Modoc  troubles  soon  began,  and  several  troops 
were  sent  southward  from  their  stations,  scouting.  There  were  several 
little  skirmishes  between  the  various  detachments  and  the  agile  In 
dians,  with  no  great  loss  on  either  side ;  but  when  "  Captain  Jack" 
retired  to  the  natural  fastness  of  the  lava-beds,  serious  work  began,  and 
here  Mr.  Noel  was  found  to  be  too  ill  to  take  part  in  the  campaign, 
and  was  sent  in  to  San  Francisco  to  recuperate.  The  short  but  bloody 
war  was  brought  to  a  close  without  his  having  taken  part  in  any  of  its 
actions,  but  he  rejoined  after  a  delightful  convalescence  in  San  Fran 
cisco  (where  it  was  understood  that  he  had  broken  down  only  after 
riding  night  and  day  and  all  alone  some  three  hundred  miles  through 


16  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

the  wilderness  with  orders  to  a  battalion  of  his  regiment  that  was 
urgently  needed  at  the  front),  and  was  able  to  talk  very  glibly  of  what 
had  occurred  down  in  the  Klamath  Lake  country.  Then  came  his 
promotion  to  a  first-lieutenancy,  and,  as  luck  would  have  it,  to  a  troop 
stationed  at  the  Presidio.  For  three  months  he  was  the  gayest  of  the 
gay,  the  life  of  parties  of  every  kind  both  in  town  and  in  garrison ; 
he  was  in  exuberant  health  and  spirits ;  he  danced  night  after  night, 
and  was  the  most  popular  partner  ever  welcomed  in  the  parlors  of 
hospitable  San  Francisco.  And  then  all  of  a  sudden  there  came  tidings 
of  an  outbreak  among  the  Arizona  Apaches  of  so  formidable  a  character 
that  the  division  commander  decided  to  send  his  Presidio  troopers  to 
reinforce  the  one  regiment  that  was  trying  to  cover  a  whole  Territory. 
There  was  pathetic  parting,  with  no  end  of  lamentation,  when  Mr.  Noel 
was  spirited  away  with  his  lynx-eyed  captain ;  but  they  need  not  have 
worried, — those  fair  dames  and  damsels ;  not  a  hair  of  his  handsome 
head  was  in  danger,  for  the  — th  had  grappled  with  and  throttled  their 
foes  before  the  detachment  from  the  Eleventh  were  fairly  in  the  Terri 
tory,  and  the  latter  were  soon  ordered  to  return  and  to  bring  with  them, 
as  prisoners  to  be  confined  at  Alcatraz,  the  leaders  of  the  outbreak, 
who  would  be  turned  over  to  them  by  the  — th.  To  hear  Noel  tell 
of  these  fierce  captives  afterwards  was  somewhat  confusing,  as,  from 
his  account,  it  would  appear  that  they  had  been  taken  in  hand-to-hand 
conflict  by  himself  and  a  small  detachment  of  his  own  troop ;  but  these 
were  stories  told  only  to  over-credulous  friends. 

The  Eleventh  came  eastward  across  the  Rockies  in  time  to  par 
ticipate  in  the  great  campaign  against  the  Sioux  in  '76,  and  was  on  the 
Yellowstone  when  Custer  and  his  favorite  companies  were  being  wiped 
out  of  existence  on  the  Little  Horn.  The  news  of  that  tragedy  made 
many  a  heart  sick,  and  Mr.  Noel  was  so  much  affected  that  when  his 
comrades  started  to  make  a  night  ride  to  the  front  to  join  what  was 
left  of  the  Seventh,  he  was  left  behind,  ostensibly  to  sleep  off  a  violent 
headache.  He  promised  to  ride  after  and  catch  them  the  next  day,  but, 
through  some  error,  got  aboard  General  Terry's  steamer,  the  Far  \Yest, 
and  made  himself  so  useful  looking  after  the  wounded  that  the  surgeon 
in  charge  was  grateful,  and,  knowing  nothing  of  his  antecedents,  gave 
him  a  certificate  on  which  he  based  an  application  for  leave  on  account 
of  sickness,  and  went  to  Bismarck  with  the  wounded,  and  thence  to 
the  distant  East,  where  he  thrilled  clubs  and  dinner-tables  with  graphic 
accounts  of  the  Custer  battle  and  of  how  we  got  up  just  in  time  to 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  17 

save  the  remnant  of  the  Seventh.  The  Eleventh  fought  all  through 
the  campaign  of  '76  and  the  chase  after  Chief  Joseph  in  '77  ;  but  Noel 
was  again  on  temporary  duty  at  the  War  Department,  and  there  he 
stayed  until  '78,  by  which  time  various  officials  had  become  acquainted 
with  some  of  the  facts  in  the  case.  The  Eleventh  "  cold-shouldered" 
him  for  a  while  after  he  got  back ;  but  they  happened  to  be  now  in  a 
region  where  there  were  no  "  hostiles,"  and  where  hops,  germans,  theat 
ricals,  tableaux,  and  entertainments  of  all  kinds  were  the  rage.  No 
other  man  could  be  half  so  useful  to  the  ladies  as  Gordon  Noel.  He  had 
just  come  from  Washington,  and  knew  everything  ;  and  when  they  took 
him  up  and  made  much  of  him  'twas  no  use  for  the  men  to  stand  aloof; 
they  had  to  take  him  up  too.  Lane  was  adjutant  of  the  regiment  at 
this  time ;  and  he,  having  seen  every  report  and  letter  with  reference  to 
Mr.  Noel  that  had  been  filed  in  the  office,  would  hardly  speak  to  him 
at  all  except  when  on  duty,  and  this  feeling  was  intensified  when,  a  year 
or  so  later,  they  were  suddenly  hurried  to  Arizona  on  account  of  a  wild 
dash  of  the  Chiricahuas,  and  as  the  different  companies  took  the  field 
and  hastened  in  the  pursuit  Mr.  Noel  was  afflicted  with  a  rheumatic 
fever  of  such  alarming  character  that  the  youthful  "  contract"  surgeon 
who  had  accompanied  his  troop  held  him  back  at  the  railway  and 
speedily  sent  him  East  on  a  three  months'  sick-leave,  which  family  influ 
ence  soon  made  six.  And  this  was  about  the  record  and  reputation  that 
Mr.  Noel  had  succeeded  in  making  when  Captain  Rawlins  was  ready  to 
bet  Captain  Greene  that,  despite  it  all,  the  regimental  Adonis  would  get 
the  recruiting-detail,  vice  Lane,  for  everybody  knew  Fred  Lane  so  well 
as  to  prophesy  that  he  would  apply  to  be  relieved  and  ordered  to  rejoin 
his  regiment,  and  everybody  was  eager  to  see  him  take  hold  of  poor 
old  Curran's  troop,  for  if  anybody  could  "  straighten  it  out"  Lane 
could. 

The  news  that  Noel  was  named  by  the  colonel  caused  a  sensation 
at  regimental  head-quarters  which  the  Eleventh  will  probably  not  soon 
forget.  "  Old  Riggs"  had  become  the  commander  of  the  regiment  after 
it  seemed  that  the  Indian  wars  were  over  and  done  with,  and,  thanks  to 
our  peculiar  system  of  promotion,  was  now  at  the  head  of  an  organiza 
tion  with  which  he  had  never  served  as  subaltern,  captain,  or  junior 
field-officer.  Discipline  forbade  saying  anything  to  his  face, — for  which 
the  colonel  was  devoutly  thankful, — but  everybody  said  to  everybody 
else  that  it  was  all  Mrs.  Biggs' s  doing,  a  fact  which  the  colonel  very 
well  knew. 

2* 


18  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

So  did  Noel,  though  he  rushed  into  the  club-room  apparently  over 
whelmed  with  amazement  and  delight : 

"  I  supposed  of  course  it  would  be  Follansbee.  I  never  dreamed 
he  would  give  it  to  me.  Come  up,  crowd  !  come  up  everybody  !  It's 
champagne  to-day,"  he  jovially  shouted  ;  and  there  were  men  who 
could  not  bear  to  snub  him  openly.  Nothing  had  really  ever  been 
proved  against  him:  why  should  they  judge  him?  But  there  were 
several  who  declined,  alleging  one  excuse  or  another,  and  even  those 
who  drank  with  him  did  so  while  applauding  Wharton's  toast : 

"  Well,  Noel,  here's  to  you  !     It  ought  to  have  been  Follansbee 
but  I  wish  you  the  joy  of  it." 

III. 

Never  before  had  Fred  Lane  known  the  sensation  of  being  reluc 
tant  to  rejoin  his  regiment.  When  the  colonel  wrote  a  personal  letter 
to  him  some  eight  or  ten  weeks  previous,  telling  him  that  Curran 
would  almost  surely  get  the  next  vacancy  on  the  retired  list  and  that 
he  would  expect  his  old  adjutant  to  come  back  to  them  at  once  and 
restore  efficiency  and  discipline  to  Troop  D,  Mr.  Lane  replied  with 
the  utmost  readiness  ;  but  this  was  before  Mabel  Vincent  came  into  his 
life  and  changed  its  whole  current.  How  much  and  how  devotedly  lie 
loved  her,  Lane  himself  never  realized  until  the  day  his  promotiou 
reached  him,  and  with  it  the  news  that  his  successor  was  already  desig 
nated.  He  knew  that  within  the  week  he  might  expect  orders  from  the 
War  Department  to  join  his  troop  at  Fort  Graham  as  soon  as  he  had 
turned  over  his  funds  and  property  to  the  officer  designated  to  relieve 
him  ;  he  knew  Noel  so  well  as  to  feel  assured  that  he  would  not  wait 
for  the  arrival  of  formal  orders,  but,  if  the  colonel  would  permit,  would 
start  the  instant  he  received  telegraphic  notification  from  Washing 
ton  that  "Old  Riggs's"  nomination  had  been  approved.  "This  ia 
Wednesday,"  he  mused ;  "  and  by  a  week  from  to-day  I  can  count  oa 
his  being  here  ;  and  in  ten  days  I  must  go." 

There  was  a  large  party  that  night,  and,  fully  a  week  before,  he  had 
asked  that  he  might  have  the  honor  of  being  Miss  Vincent's  escort. 
It  was  with  great  disappointment  that  he  received  her  answer,  which 
was  spoken,  however,  in  a  tone  of  such  sorrow  that  poor  Lane  felt 
that  the  barbs,  at  least,  of  the  arrow  had  been  removed. 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  tell  you  how  I  regret  having  to  say  '  No,' 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  19 

Mr.  Lane,"  she  said,  and  there  was  a  tremor  in  her  voice  and  a  little 
quiver  at  the  corners  of  her  pretty  mouth.  "  I  have  almost  felt  con 
fident  that  you  were  going  to  ask  me, — is  that  a  very  bold  thing  to 
say  ? — for  you  have  been  so — so  kind  to  me  since  our  first  meeting,  and 
indeed  I  wanted  in  some  way  to  let  you  know  that  there  were  other 
arrangements  already  made.  But  how  could  I  say  anything?  Mr. 
Rossiter,  the  eldest  son  of  father's  former  partner,  comes  to  pay  us  a 
visit  of  four  or  five  days  before  he  goes  abroad  again.  And  he  is 
a  great  friend  of  the  Chiltons,  and,  being  our  guest,  he  goes  with  me. 
Indeed,  I'm  very  sorry,  Mr.  Lane,  if  you  are  disappointed." 

Fred,  of  course,  begged  that  she  should  give  herself  no  uneasiness. 
There  was  no  other  girl  whom  he  had  thought  of  taking.  Mr.  Ros 
siter  was  very  much  to  be  envied,  and  he  would  like  to  call  and  pay 
his  respects  to  that  gentleman  when  he  arrived.  "  By  all  means  do," 
said  Miss  Vincent ;  and,  if  not  asking  too  much,  would  Mr.  Lane  get 
him  a  card  at  the  club  ?  Brother  Rex  was  away,  or  she  wouldn't 
trouble  him.  But  Lane  was  delighted  to  be  troubled.  Anything  she 
asked — aqy  service  he  could  render  her — he  flew  with  untold  eager 
ness  to  accomplish  ;  and,  though  properly  jealous  of  the  coming  man, 
— this  Mr.  Rossiter,  of  whom  he  had  never  before  heard  mention, — he 
was  eager  to  meet  and  entertain  him.  The  gentleman  was  to  arrive  on 
Monday,  and  Lane  spent  a  delightful  evening  at  the  Vincents',  won 
dering  why  he  hadn't  come.  Tuesday  would  surely  bring  him,  or  an 
explanation,  said  Miss  Mabel ;  and  on  Tuesday  Lane  was  prompt  to 
call,  and  glad  to  spend  another  long  evening  at  the  hospitable  old 
homestead,  and  stoutly  did  he  hold  his  ground  through  three  succes 
sive  relays  of  visitors,  encouraged  to  do  so  by  a  certain  look  in  his 
lady's  bright  eyes  that  spoke  volumes  to  his  throbbing  heart,  and  that 
very  next  morning  at  the  club  he  found  her  dainty  missive  on  his 
breakfast-table.  How  early  she  must  have  risen  to  write  it ! — and  to 
have  seen  the  announcement  of  his  promotion  in  the  Washington  de 
spatches  !  True,  he  remembered  that  it  was  frequently  her  pleasure  to 
be  up  betimes  to  give  her  father  his  coffee ;  for  Vincent  p&re  was  a 
business-man  of  the  old  school,  who  liked  to  begin  early  in  the  day. 
Of  course  he  had  seen  the  name  in  the  Washington  news  and  had 
read  the  paragraph  to  her:  that  was  the  way  to  account  for  it.  But 
her  note  was  a  joy  to  him  in  its  sweet,  half-shy,  half-confidential 
wording.  She  merely  wrote  to  say  that  Mr.  Rossiter  had  wired  that 
he  would  be  detained  in  New  York  until  the  end  of  the  week ;  and 


20  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

now,  if  Captain  Lane  had  really  made  no  engagement,  she  would  be 
glad  indeed  if  he  cared  to  renew  the  invitation  which  with  such  regret 
she  was  compelled  a  week  ago  to  decline.  Lane  totally  forgot  his  break 
fast  in  his  haste  to  rush  to  the  writing-room  and  send  her  a  reply. 

All  "  The  Queen  City"  had  been  quick  to  see  or  hear  of  his  "  sudden 
smite"  and  consequent  devotion  to  Mabel  Vincent,  and  great  was  the 
speculation  as  to  the  probable  result. 

"  How  can  she  encourage  him  as  she  does  ?  What  can  she  see  in 
that  solemn  prig?"  indignantly  demanded  Miss  Fanny  Holton,  who 
had  shown  a  marked  interest  in  Mr.  Lane  during  his  first  six  months 
in  society  and  had  danced  with  him  all  through  the  season.  "  He  is 
one  of  the  forlornest,  stupidest  men  I  ever  knew, — utterly  unlike  what 
I  supposed  a  cavalry  officer  to  be." 

"  And  yet,  Fanny  dear,  you  were  very  much  taken  up  with  him 
the  first  winter, — last  year,  I  mean,"  was  the  reply  of  her  most  devoted 
and  intimate  friend. 

"  What  an  outrageous  fib !  I  wasn't ;  and  if  I  was,  it  was  because 
I  wanted  to  draw  him  out, — do  something  to  enliven  him.  Of  course 
I  danced  with  him  a  great  deal.  There  isn't  a  better  dancer  in  town, 
and  you  know  it,  Maud  :  you've  said  so  yourself  time  and  again." 

"  Well,  you  didn't  draw  him  out, — nor  on.  But  the  moment  he 
sees  Mabel  Vincent  he  falls  heels  over  head  in  love  with  her.  Why,  I 
never  saw  a  man  whose  every  look  and  word  so  utterly  'gave  him 
away,' "  was  Miss  Maud's  characteristic  and  slangy  reply.  "  And  it's 
my  belief  she'll  take  him,  too.  She  likes  him  well,  and  she  says  he 
knows  more  than  any  other  man  she  has  ever  met. 

"  He  has  money,  too,  and  can  resign  and  live  here  if  she  wants 
him  to,"  went  on  Miss  Maud,  after  a  pause  which,  oddly  enough,  her 
friend  had  not  taken  advantage  of. 

"You  don't  know  anything  about  what  Mabel  Vincent  will  or 
won't  do,  Maud.  I've  known  her  years  longer  than  you  have,  and, 
though  I'm  awfully  fond  of  her,  and  wouldn't  have  this  repeated  for 
the  world, — and  you  must  swear  never  to  repeat  it  to  anybody, — I 
know  her  so  well  that  I  can  say  she  doesn't  know  her  own  mind  now 
and  would  change  it  in  less  than  six  months  if  she  did.  She  is  as 
fickle  in  love  as  in  her  friendships ;  and  you  can't  have  forgotten  how 
inseparable  you  and  she  were  for  three  months  at  Madame  Hoffman's, 
and  then  how  she  fastened  on  Katherine  Ward.  I  don't  care  a  snap 
of  my  finger  whom  Mr.  Lane  chooses  to  fall  in  love  with,  but  if  it's 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  21 

Mabel  Vincent  he'd  better  insist  on  a  short  engagement  and  stand 
guard  over  her  with  his  sword  in  the  mean  time.  It's  ( out  of  sight  out 
of  mind'  with  her,  and  has  been  ever  since  she  was  four  years  old." 

And  so  in  the  smoking-room  at  the  club  and  in  the  feminine  cliques 
and  coteries  in  society  the  probability  of  Mabel  Vincent's  accepting 
Lieutenant  Lane  was  a  matter  of  frequent  discussion.  But  of  all  this 
chit-chat  and  speculation  Captain  Lane  stood  in  profound  ignorance 
as  he  entered  his  dark  office  that  drenching  Wednesday  morning 
with  her  precious  note  in  his  waistcoat-pocket.  He  neither  knew  nor 
cared  what  old  Vincent  was  worth :  all  he  wanted  was  Mabel's  own 
sweet  self,  for  he  loved  her  with  his  whole  heart  and  soul,  with  all 
the  strength  and  devotion  of  his  deep  and  loyal  nature.  He  could 
hardly  control  his  voice  so  as  to  speak  in  the  conventional  official  tone 
to  the  sergeant  in  charge  as  the  latter  saluted  him  at  the  door-way 
and  made  the  customary  report  of  the  presence  of  the  detachment. 
Lane  stepped  into  his  little  dressing-room  and  quickly  appeared  in  his 
neat  fatigue  uniform.  There  wasn't  a  ghost  of  a  chance  of  would- l>e 
recruits  'wjandering  in  that  day ;  but  he  was  a  stickler  for  discipline.  He 
required  his  men  to  be  always  in  their  appropriate  uniform,  and  never 
neglected  wearing  his  own  while  in  the  office ;  yet  in  all  the  Queen 
City  no  one  but  his  little  party,  the  applicants  for  enlistment,  and  the 
few  citizens  who  came  in  on  business  had  ever  seen  him  except  in  civil 
ian  dress. 

"  These  reports  and  returns  all  go  in  to-morrow,  I  believe  ?"  said 
Lane  to  his  sergeant. 

"  They  do,  sir." 

"  Well,  will  you  take  them  in  to  the  clerk  again,"  said  Lane,  blush 
ing  vividly,  "  and  tell  him  to  alter  that  '  First  Lieutenant'  to  '  Captain' 
wherever  it  occurs?  The — official  notification  is  just  here,"  he  added, 
almost  apologetically. 

" Sure  I'm  glad  to  hear  it,  sir.  All  the  men  will  be  glad,  sir;  and 
I'm  proud  to  think  that  I  was  the  first  man  to  salute  the  captain  to 
day,"  was  the  sergeant's  delighted  answer.  "  I'll  call  Taintor  in  at  once." 

But  Lane  was  blissfully  thinking  of  the  little  note,  now  transferred 
to  the  breast-pocket  of  his  uniform  blouse,  and  of  how  not  his  honest 
old  sergeant  but  sweet  Mabel  Vincent  was  the  first  to  hail  him  by  his 
new  title ;  and  in  thinking  of  the  note  and  of  her  he  failed  to  notice 
that,  so  far  from  coming  at  once,  it  was  fully  ten  or  fifteen  minutes 
before  Taintor,  the  clerk,  put  in  an  appearance,  and  when  he  did  that 
his  face  was  ashen-gray  and  his  hand  shook  as  though  with  palsy. 


22  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

"  The  sergeant  will  tell  you  what  is  to  be  done  with  the  papers, 
Taintor,"  said  Lane,  conscious  that  he  was  blushing  again,  and  conse 
quently  striving  to  appear  engrossed  in  the  morning  paper.  The  man 
picked  them  up  one  after  another  and  without  a  word ;  he  dropped  one 
to  the  floor  in  his  nervousness,  but  made  a  quick  dive  for  it,  and  then 
for  the  door,  as  though  fearful  of  detention.  He  hurried  through  the 
room  in  which  the  sergeant  and  one  or  two  men  were  seated,  and,  reach 
ing  his  big  desk  at  a  rear  window,  where  he  was  out  of  sight,  dropped 
the  papers  on  the  floor  and  buried  his  face  in  his  shaking  hands. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  sergeant,  coming  into  the  little  cubby-hole 
of  a  room  in  which  Taintor  had  preferred  to  do  his  work,  found  him 
with  his  arms  on  the  desk  and  his  face  hidden  in  them,  and  the  soldier 
clerk  was  quivering  and  twitching  from  head  to  foot. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Taintor  ?"  growled  the  old  soldier. 
"Didn't  you  promise  me  you'd  quit  drinking?" 

The  face  that  looked  up  into  his  was  ghastly. 

"  It  isn't  drink,  sergeant,"  moaned  the  man.  "  At  least,  I  haven't 
exceeded  for  a  mouth.  I've  got  a  chill, — an  ague  of  some  kind. 
Just  let  me  run  down  to  the  drug-store  and  get  some  quinine, — with 
perhaps  a  little  brandy.  Then  I  can  do  this  work.  Do,  sergeant.  I 
won't  abuse  your  kindness." 

"  Well,  go,  then,"  was  the  reluctant  answer  ;  "  but  get  back  quick. 
And  only  one  drink,  mind  you." 

Taintor  seized  his  cap  and  fairly  tottered  through  the  adjoining  room 
to  the  stairway,  down  which  he  plunged  madly,  and,  heedless  of  the 
pelting  rain,  darted  across  the  street  to  the  gas-lighted  bar-room. 

"By  G— d,"  muttered  the  veteran  sergeant,  "there's  something 
worse  than  either  whiskey  or  ague  back  of  this ;  and  I  could  swear 
to  it." 

IV. 

Captain  Lane,  as  has  been  said,  allowed  until  the  following 
Wednesday  for  the  arrival  of  his  regimental  comrade  Mr.  Noel.  He 
was  not  a  little  surprised,  however,  on  the  following  Tuesday  morning, 
as  he  sat  at  breakfast  at  the  club,  glancing  over  the  morning  paper,  to 
come  upon  the  following  announcement : 

"  DISTINGUISHED  ARRIVAL. 
"  Our  readers  will  be  interested  in  knowing  that  Captain  Gordon  Noel, 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  23 

of  the  Eleventh  U.S.  Cavalry,  has  been  ordered  on  duty  in  the  city, 
in  charge  of  the  cavalry  rendezvous  on  Sycamore  Street.  Captain  Noel 
comes  to  us  with  a  reputation  that  should  win  instant  recognition  and 
the  heartiest  welcome  from  the  Queen  City.  For  nearly  fifteen  years  he 
has  served  with  his  gallant  regiment,  and  has  been  prominent  in  every 
one  of  the  stirring  campaigns  against  the  hostile  Indians  of  our  Western 
frontier.  He  has  fought  almost  every  savage  tribe  on  the  continent ; 
was  disabled  in  the  Modoc  campaign  in  '73,  commanded  the  advance- 
guard  of  his  regiment  that  reached  the  scene  of  the  Custer  massacre 
'only  just  in  time  to  rescue  the  remnant  of  the  regiment  from  a  similar 
fate,  and  for  his  services  on  that  campaign  was  awarded  the  compli 
ment  of  staff  duty  in  the  city  of  Washington.  At  his  own  request, 
however,  he  was  relieved  from  this,  and  rejoined  his  regiment  when 
hostilities  were  threatened  in  Arizona  two  years  ago.  And  now,  as  a 
reward  for  gallant  and  distinguished  conduct  in  the  field,  he  is  given 
the  prized  recruiting-detail.  Captain  Noel  is  the  guest  of  his  cousin, 
the  Hon.  Amos  Withers,  at  his  palatial  home  on  the  Heights  ;  and  our 
fair  readers  will  be  interested  in  knowing  that  he  is  a  bachelor,  and, 
despite  his  years  of  hardship,  danger,  and  privation,  is  a  remarkably 
fine-looking  man. 

"  It  is  understood  that  Lieutenant  Lane,  the  present  recruiting 
officer,  has  been  ordered  to  return  to  his  regiment  at  once,  although 
the  time  has  not  yet  expired." 

In  the  expression  on  Captain  Lane's  face  as  he  finished  this  item 
there  was  something  half  vexed,  half  comical. 

A  few  hours  afterwards,  while  he  was  seated  in  his  office,  the 
orderly  entered,  and  announced  two  gentlemen  to  see  the  captain. 
Lane  turned  to  receive  his  visitors,  but  before  he  could  advance 
across  the  dark  room  the  taller  of  the  two  entering  the  door  made  a 
spring  towards  him,  clapped  him  cordially  on  the  back,  and,  with  the 
utmost  delight,  shouted,  "  How  are  you,  old  fellow  ?  How  well  you're 
looking  1  Why,  I  haven't  set  eyes  on  you  since  we  were  out  on  the 
field  hunting  up  old  Geronimo's  trail !  By  Jove !  but  I'm  glad  to 
see  you  !"  And  Lane  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  at  once  his 
regimental  comrade  Gordon  Noel. 

"  L^t  me  present  you  to  my  cousin,  Mr.  Withers,"  said  Noel. 

And  a  stout,  florid  man,  whom  Lane  had  often  seen  at  the  club, 


24  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

but  to  whom  he  had  never  hitherto  been  made  known,  bowed  with 
much  cordiality  and  extended  his  hand. 

"  I  didn't  know,"  said  he,  "  that  you  were  a  friend  of  Noel's,  or 
I'd  have  come  to  see  you  before,  and  invited  you  to  my  house." 

"  Friend  !"  exclaimed  Noel.  "  Friend  I  Why,  we've  been  partners 
and  chums!  Why,  we've  been  all  over  this  continent  together,  Withers  ! 
Fred,  do  you  remember  the  time  we  were  up  on  the  Sioux  campaign  ? — 
the  night  I  went  over  with  those  fellows  to  hunt  up  the  trail  to  the 
Custer  ground  ?  Let's  see,  you  were  acting  adjutant  then,  if  I  recollect 
right.  Oh,  yes  ;  you  were  back  with  the  colonel." 

Lane  received  his  guests  with  perfect  courtesy,  but  without  that 
overweening  cordiality  which  distinguished  the  other's  manner,  and 
then  Mr.  Withers  entered  into  the  conversation.  Turning  to  Captain 
Lane,  he  said, — 

"  I  didn't  know  that  you  had  been  on  the  Sioux  campaign.  Were 
you  there  too  ?" 

Lane  replied  quietly  that  he  had  been  with  his  regiment  through 
that  year, — in  fact,  had  never  been  away  from  it  for  any  length  of 
time,  except  on  this  detail  which  had  brought  him  to  his  old  home. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  remember  having  heard  that  this  was  your  home.  I 
am  very  sorry  indeed  that  you  did  not  make  yourself  known  to  me 
before,"  said  Mr.  Withers.  "  You  know  that  I  am  a  very  busy  man 
and  don't  get  around  much.  Now  you  can  come  and  dine  with  us 
this  evening,  can  you  not?  Mrs.  Withers  will  certainly  expect  you, 
now  that  Noel  is  here." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  indeed,  Mr.  Withers,  but  I  am  already  engaged." 

"  You  must  make  early  bids  if  you  want  to  get  this  young  man, 
Amos,"  put  in  Mr.  Noel,  affectionately  patting  Lane  on  the  shoulder. 
"  It  was  just  so  in  the  regiment.  He  was  always  in  demand. — Well, 
when  can  you  come,  Fred?  What  evening  shall  we  say?" 

"  It  will  depend,  perhaps,  on  the  day  I  turn  over  the  property  to 
you.  How  soon  do  you  wish  to  take  hold  ?" 

"  Oh,  any  time.     Any  day.     Whenever  you're  ready." 

"I'm  ready  now,  to-day,  if  you  choose,"  was  Lane's  prompt 
response.  "  I  fancied  you  might  be  here  by  to-morrow." 

"  Yes,  you  bet  I  didn't  let  the  grass  grow  under  my  feet.  The 
moment  we  got  the  telegraphic  notification  that  the  colonel's  nomina 
tion  was  approved,  I  lit  out  for  the  railroad,"  said  Noel,  laughing 
gleefully. 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  25 

"And  when  will  you  come  in  and  take  over  the  property?  There's 
a  good  deal  of  clothing  to  be  counted.  As  for  the  funds,  they,  of 
course,  are  all  in  the  bank." 

"  Suit  yourself  about  that,  Freddy,  old  boy.  I'm  going  down 
street  with  Amos  now.  How'll  to-morrow  morning  do  ?" 

"  Very  well  indeed.    You  will  find  me  here  any  time  you  come  in." 

"  All  right.  Now  get  out  of  your  yellow  stripes  and  come  along 
down  town  with  us.  The  carriage  is  right  here  at  the  door.  We're 
going  over  to  see  the  works, — Mr.  Withers's  foundries,  you  know. 
Come." 

"Yes,  come  with  us.  I  think  I  have  heard  it  was  your  father 
who — ah — who  was  in  the  same  line  of  business  at  one  time,  Mr. 
Lane,"  said  Mr.  Withers. 

"  Captain  Lane,  Amos  ! — Captain  Lane  !  Great  Scott !  you  mustn't 
*  mister'  a  man  who  has  been  through  the  years  of  service  he  has." 

"  I  beg  pardon.  I  did  not  so  understand  you,  Gordon,  when  we 
were  talking  last  night  with  the — when  we  were  having  our  smoke 
and  chat  after  dinner. — You  will  come  with  us,  won't  you,  captain  ?" 

"I  wish  I  could,  Mr.  Withers,  but  my  office-hours  have  to  be 
observed,  and  I  cannot  leave  in  the  morning.  Thank  you  heartily 
none  the  less. — Then  you  will  be  here  to-morrow,  Noel  ?" 

"  To-morrow  be  it,  Fred :  so  au  revoir,  if  you  can't  join  us.  I 
mustn't  keep  Withers  waiting, — business-man,  you  know.  God  bless 
you,  old  fellow,  you  don't  begin  to  realize  how  delighted  I  am  to  see 
you !  So  long." 

"  But  about  dining  with  us,  Captain " 

"  Oh,  Lord,  yes !"  burst  in  Noel.  "  What  evening,  now  ?  I'd 
almost  forgotten.  Getting  in  among  bricks  and  mortar  addles  my 
head.  'Tisn't  like  being  out  in  the  saddle  with  the  mountain  breezes 
all  around  you :  hey,  Fred  ?  Gad !  I  don't  know  whether  I  can 
stand  this  sort  of  thing,  after  our  years  of  campaigning."  And  the 
lieutenant  looked  dubiously  around  upon  the  dark  and  dingy  walls 
and  windows. 

"Suppose  we  say  Thursday  evening,  captain,"  suggested  Mr. 
Withers j  "  and  I'll  have  just  a  few  friends  to  meet  you  two  army 
gentlemen." 

"  I  shall  be  very  happy,  Mr.  Withers." 

"  Good  !  That's  the  talk,  Fred !"  heartily  shouted  the  lieutenant, 
bringing  his  hand  down  with  a  resounding  whack  between  Lane's 
B  3 


26  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

shoulder-blades.  "Now  we  are  off!  Come  along,  Amos."  And 
the  cousins  disappeared  down  the  dark  stairway  and  popped  into  the 
carriage. 

"  Not  a  very  demonstrative  man,  your  friend  the  captain,  but 
seems  to  be  solid,"  was  Mr.  Withers' s  remark. 

"  Oh,  yes.  He  is  about  as  solid  as  they  make  them,"  answered  Noel, 
airily.  "  Lane  has  his  faults,  like  most  men.  It  is  only  those  who  really 
know  him,  who  have  been  associated  with  him  for  years,  and  whom 
he  trusts  and  likes,  that  are  his  friends.  Now,  I'd  go  through  fire 
and  water  for  him,  and  he  would  for  me, — but  of  course  you  wouldn't 
think  it,  to  see  his  perfectly  conventional  society  manner  this  morning. 
,If  I  had  left  you  down  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  had  stolen  up  on 
tiptoe  and  gone  over  and  put  my  arms  round  his  neck,  you  would 
probably  have  found  us  hugging  each  other  and  dancing  about  that 
room  like  a  couple  of  grizzly  bears  when  you  came  up,  and  the  mo 
ment  he  caught  sight  of  you  he  would  have  blushed  crimson  and  got 
behind  his  ice  screen  in  a  second.  You  just  ought  to  have  seen  him  the 
night  we  met  each  other  with  our  detachments  down  near  Guadalupe 
Caflon  when  we  were  hunting  Geronimo.  Some  d — d  fool  of  a  ranch 
man  had  met  him  and  said  I  was  killed  in  the  little  affair  we  had  with 
the  Apache  rear-guard.  Why,  I  was  perfectly  amazed  at  the  emotion 
he  showed.  Ever  since  then  I've  sworn  by  Fred  Lane ;  though,  of 
course,  he  has  traits  that  I  wish  he  could  get  rid  of." 

"  Good  officer,  isn't  he  ?" 

"  Ye — es,  Lane  isn't  half  a  bad  soldier.  Of  course  it  remains  to  be 
seen  what  sort  of  captain  he  will  make.  He  has  only  just  got  his  troop." 

"But  I  mean  he — well — is  a  brave  man, — has  shown  up  well  in 
these  Indian  fights  you  were  telling  us  about  ?" 

"  H'm  !"  answered  Noel,  with  a  quiet  little  chuckle :  "  if  he  wasn't, 
you  bet  he  wouldn't  have  been  all  these  years  in  the  Eleventh.  A 
shirk  of  any  kind  is  just  the  one  thing  we  won't  stand.  Why,  Amos, 
when  old  Jim  Blazer  was  our  colonel  during  those  years  of  the  Sioux 
and  Cheyenne  and  Nez  Perce'  wars  he  ran  two  men  out  of  the  regi 
ment  simply  because  they  managed  to  get  out  of  field  duty  two  suc 
cessive  years.  Oh,  no !  Lane's  all  right  as  a  soldier,  or  he  wouldn't  be 
wearing  the  crossed  sabres  of  the  Eleventh." 

Mr.  Withers  listened  to  these  tales  of  the  doings  and  sayings  of  the 
regiment  with  great  interest.  "  Lane  might  have  been  here  a  dozen 
years,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  and  no  one  in  our  community  would  have 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  27 

known  anything  at  all  about  the  dangers  and  hardships  his  comradea 
and  he  had  encountered  in  their  frontier  service.  It's  only  when  some 
fellow  like  Noel  comes  to  us  that  we  learn  anything  whatever  of  bur 
army  and  its  doings." 

He  took  his  cousin  to  the  great  moulding-works  of  which  he  was 
the  sole  head  and  proprietor,  and  presented  his  foremen  and  his  clerks 
to  the  captain,  and  told  them  of  his  career  in  the  Indian  wars  on  the 
frontier,  and  then  up  on  'Change  and  proudly  introduced  "  my  cousin 
Captain  Noel"  to  the  magnates  of  the  Queen  City ;  and,  though  not  one 
out  of  a  dozen  was  in  the  least  degree  interested  in  "  the  captain"  or 
cared  a  grain  of  wheat  what  the  army  had  done  or  was  doing  on  the 
frontier,  almost  every  man  had  time  to  stop  and  shake  hands  cordially 
with  the  handsome  officer,  for  Amos  Withers  was  said  to  be  a  man 
whose  check  for  a  round  million  would  be  paid  at  sight,  and  anybody 
who  was  first-cousin  to  that  amount  of  "  spot  cash"  was  worth  stopping 
to  chat  with,  even  in  the  midst  of  the  liveliest  tussle  'twixt  bull  and 
bear  on  the  floor  of  the  Chamber  of  Commerce.  A  tall,  gray-haired 
gentleman,  with  a  slight  stoop  to  his  shoulders  and  rather  tired,  anxious 
eyes,  who  listened  nervously  to  the  shouts  from  "  the  pit"  and  scanned 
eagerly  the  little  telegraphic  slips  thrust  into  his  hand  by  scurrying 
messenger-boys,  was  introduced  as  Mr.  Vincent,  and  Mr.  Vincent 
inquired  if  Noel  knew  Lieutenant— or  rather  Captain — Lane. 

"  Know  Fred  Lane  ?  He  is  the  best  friend  I  have  in  the  world," 
was  the  enthusiastic  answer,  "  and  one  of  the  best  men  that  ever  lived." 

"  Ah  !  I'm  glad  to  know  you, — glad  to  know  what  you  say.  The 
captain  is  a  constant  visitor  at  our  house,  a  great  friend  of  ours,  in  fact. 
Ah  !  excuse  me  a  moment."  And  Mr.  Vincent  seized  a  certain  well- 
known  broker  by  the  arm  and  murmured  some  eager  inquiries  in  his 
ear,  to  which  the  other  listened  with  ill-disguised  impatience. 

Withers  and,  of  course,  "  the  captain"  were  the  centre  of  a  cordial 
— not  to  say  obsequious — group  so  long  as  they  remained  upon  the 
floor,  and  the  secretary  presently  came  to  them  with  the  compliments 
of  the  president  and  a  card  admitting  Captain  Gordon  Noel  to  the 
floor  of  the  Chamber  at  any  time  during  business  hours,  which  that 
officer  most  gracefully  acknowledged  and  then  went  on  replying  to  the 
questions  of  his  new  friends  about  the  strange  regions  through  which  he 
had  scouted  and  fought,  and  the  characteristics  of  the  Indian  tribes 
with  whom  he  had  been  brought  in  contact.  And  by  the  time  Cousin 
Amos  declared  they  must  go  up  to  the  club  for  luncheon,  everybody 


28  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

was  much  impressed  by  the  hearty,  jovial  manner  of  the  dashing 
cavalryman,  and  there  were  repeated  hand-shakes,  promises  to  call,  and 
prophecies  of  a  delightful  sojourn  in  their  midst  as  he  took  his  leave. 

"  Has  Captain  Lane  come  in  yet  to  lunch  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Withers 
of  the  liveried  attendant  at  "  The  Queen  City,"  as  his  cousin  inscribed 
his  name  and  regiment  in  the  visitors'  book,  as  introduced  by  "A.  W.," 
in  ponderous  strokes  of  the  pen. 

"  No,  sir.  It's  considerably  past  the  time  the  gentleman  generally 
comes.  I  don't  think  he'll  be  in  to-day,  sir." 

"  Then  we  won't  wait,  Gordon.     We'll  order  for  two.     What  wine 

do  you  like  ?" 

********* 

Over  at  the  dingy  recruiting-office  Captain  Lane  had  forgotten 
about  luncheon.  There  were  evidences  of  carelessness  on  the  part  of 
the  clerk  who  had  made  out  his  great  batch  of  papers,  and  the  further 
he  looked  the  more  he  found.  The  orderly  had  been  sent  for  Taintor, 
and  had  returned  with  the  information  that  he  was  not  at  his  desk. 
Sergeant  Burns,  when  called  upon  to  explain  how  it  happened  that  he 
allowed  him  to  slip  away,  promptly  replied  that  it  was  half-past  eleven 
when  he  came  out  of  the  captain's  office  and  said  that  the  captain 
would  want  him  all  the  afternoon,  so  he  had  best  go  and  get  his  dinner 
now.  Half-past  twelve  came,  and  he  did  not  return.  The  sergeant 
went  after  him,  and  came  back  in  fifteen  minutes  with  a  worried  look 
about  his  face  to  say  that  Taintor  had  not  been  to  dinner  at  all,  and 
that  the  door  of  the  little  room  he  occupied  was  locked.  He  had  not 
been  in  the  house  since  eight  that  morning. 

"I'm  afraid,  sir,  he's  drinkin'  again,"  said  Burns;  "but  he's  so 
ely  about  it  I  never  can  tell  until  he  is  far  gone." 

"  You  go  out  yourself,  and  send  two  of  the  men,  and  make  in 
quiries  at  all  his  customary  haunts,"  ordered  Lane.  "  I  will  stay  here 
and  go  through  all  these  papers.  None  are  right,  so  far.  He  never 
failed  me  before  ;  and  I  do  not  understand  it  at  all." 

But  when  night  came  Taintor  was  still  missing, — had  not  been 
seen  nor  heard  of, — and  Captain  Lane  had  written  a  hurried  note  to 
the  lady  of  his  love  to  say  that  a  strange  and  most  untoward  case  of 
desertion  had  just  occurred  which  necessitated  his  spending  some  time 
with  the  Chief  of  Police  at  once.  He  begged  her  to  make  his  excuses 
to  her  good  mother  for  his  inability  to  come  to  dinner.  Later  in  the 
evening  he  hoped  to  see  her. 


TWO  SOLDIEES.  29 

"  P.S. — Gordon  Noel,  who  is  to  relieve  me,  has  arrived.  I  have 
only  three  or  four  days  more." 

"  Gordon  Noel  !"  said  Miss  Vincent,  pensively.  "  Where  have  1 
heard  of  Gordon  Noel  ?" 

V. 

And  now  a  matter  has  to  be  recorded  which  will  go  far  to  convince 
many  of  our  readers  that  Captain  Lane  was  even  more  of  an  old- 
fashioned  prig  than  he  has  hitherto  appeared  to  be.  After  leaving  the 
Vincents'  late  on  the  previous  day,  he  had  come  to  his  rooms,  and  sat 
there  for  fully  two  hours  in  the  endeavor  to  compose  a  brief,  manly 
letter  addressed  to  Vincent  p&re.  It  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than 
the  old  style  of  addressing  a  gentleman  of  family  and  requesting  per 
mission  to  pay  his  addresses  to  his  daughter  Mabel.  A  very  difficult 
task  was  the  composition  of  this  letter  for  our  frontier  soldier.  He 
was  desperately  in  earnest,  however;  time  was  short,  and  after  several 
attempts  the  missive  was  completed.  His  first  duty  in  the  morning 
was  to  'send  that  letter  by  an  orderly  to  Mr.  Vincent's  office.  Then 
he  turned  to  his  sergeant  and  asked  for  news  of  the  deserter.  Not 
a  word  had  been  heard, — not  a  single  word. 

"  I  have  been  everywhere  I  could  think  of,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant, 
"  and  both  the  men  have  been  around  his  customary  haunts  last  night 
and  this  morning  making  inquiries,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  The  detec 
tives  came  and  burst  into  his  trunk,  and  there  was  nothing  in  it  worth 
having.  He  had  been  taking  away  his  clothing,  etc.,  from  time  to  time 
in  small  packages  and  secreting  them  we  don't  where.  One  thing  I 
heard,  sir,  that  I  never  knew  before,  and  that  was  that  after  he  had 
gone  to  bed  at  night  he  would  frequently  steal  out  of  his  room  and  go 
away  and  never  reappear  until  breakfast-time  in  the  morning.  And 
now  will  the  lieutenant — the  captain  pardon  me  for  asking  the  question, 
Are  the  check-books  all  right,  sir  ?" 

"  What  put  that  idea  into  your  head  ?"  asked  Lane. 

"Well,  sir,  some  of  the  men  tell  me  that  he  was  always  writing  at 
his  desk,  and  once  Strauss  said  that  he  had  picked  up  a  scrap  of  paper 
that  he  hadn't  completely  destroyed,  and  the  handwriting  on  it  didn't 
look  like  Taintor's  at  all ;  he  said  it  more  resembled  that  of  the  cap 
tain  ;  and  it  made  me  suspicious.  I  never  heard  this  until  late  last 
night." 

3* 


30  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

A  sudden  thought  occurred  to  Lane.  Taking  out  his  check-book, 
he  carefully  counted  the  checks  remaining  and  compared  them  with 
the  number  of  stubs,  and  found,  to  his  surprise  and  much  to  his  dis 
may,  that  at  least  five  or  six  checks  were  missing. 

"  Send  for  a  cab  at  once.  I  must  go  down  to  the  bank.  You 
stay  here,  and  when  Lieutenant  Noel  comes,  give  him  my  compliments, 
and  ask  him  to  sit  down  and  wait  awhile  and  read  the  morning  paper. 
I'll  be  back  in  a  very  short  time." 

Following  the  custom  established  by  his  predecessor,  Captain  Lane 
had  always  kept  the  recruiting-funds  in  the  First  National  Bank.  His 
own  private  funds  he  preferred  to  keep  in  an  entirely  different  estab 
lishment, — the  Merchants'  Exchange. 

The  cab  whirled  him  rapidly  to  the  building  indicated,  and, 
although  it  lacked  half  an  hour  of  the  time  of  opening,  he  made  his 
way  into  the  office  and  asked  to  see  the  paying  teller. 

"  Will  you  kindly  tell  me  if  any  checks  on  the  recruiting- fund  have 
lately  been  presented  for  payment  ?"  he  eagerly  asked. 

The  captain  was  referred  to  the  book-keeper,  and  that  official  called 
him  within  the  railing. 

"  No  less  than  four  checks  were  brought  here  yesterday  for  pay 
ment,  and  they  came  between  half-past  two  and  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,"  was  the  book-keeper's  report.  "  There  seemed  to  us  some 
thing  wrong  in  the  simultaneous  presentation  of  the  four,  and  I  was 
on  the  point  of  addressing  a  note  to  you  this  morning  to  ask  you  to 
come  down  to  the  bank.  Everything  about  it  appears  in  proper 
shape  and  form,  except  that  three  of  the  checks  have  been  endorsed 
payable  to  your  clerk,  William  Tain  tor,  who  came  in  person  and  drew 
the  money." 

"  Let  me  see  the  checks,  if  you  please,"  said  the  captain. 

They  were  speedily  produced.  Lane  took  them  to  the  window  and 
closely  examined  them. 

"  I  could  not  tell  them,"  he  said,  "  from  my  own  handwriting ; 
and  yet  those  three  checks  are  forgeries.  I  believe  that  the  endorse 
ments  on  the  back  are  equally  forgeries.  Now,  can  I  take  these  with 
me  to  the  office  of  the  Chief  of  Police?  or  do  you  desire  that  the 
detectives  should  be  sent  here?  Taintor  deserted  last  night,  and  all 
traces  have  been  lost.  What  is  the  amount  that  he  has  drawn  ?" 

"  One  check,  payable  to  the  order  of  William  Hayden  for  lx>ard 
furnished  to  the  recruiting-party,  is  to  the  amount  of  forty-five  dollars 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  31 

and  fifty  cents.  The  second,  payable  to  James  Freeman,  and  endorsed 
by  him  to  William  Taintor,  as  was  the  first,  is  for  rent  of  the  building 
occupied  by  the  recruiting  rendezvous,  precisely  similar  in  form  and 
amount  to  the  previous  checks,  for  the  sum  of  sixty  dollars.  The 
third  check  is  payable  to  William  Taintor  himself,  marked  '  for  extra- 
duty  pay  as  clerk  at  the  recruiting  office  for  the  past  six  months.'  The 
fourth  is  made  payable  to  the  order  of  Sergeant  James  Burns,  (  extra- 
duty  pay  as  non-commissioned  officer  in  charge  of  the  party  for  the  six 
months  beginning  January  1  and  ending  June  30.' >} 

This  check,  too,  had  been  endorsed  payable  to  the  order  of  William 
Taintor.  All  four  checks,  amounting  in  all  to  the  sum  of  about  one 
hundred  and  sixty  dollars,  had  been  paid  to  the  deserting  clerk  during 
the  afternoon  of  the  previous  day. 

"  Had  you  no  suspicion  of  anything  wrong  ?"  said  Lane. 

"  I  knew  nothing  about  it,"  said  the  book-keeper.  "  They  were 
presented  to  the  paying  teller  at  the  desk,  and  it  was  not  until  after 
bank  was  closed,  when  we  came  to  balance  up  cash,  that  the  matter 
excited  comment  and  then  suspicion.  Taintor  has  frequently  come  here 
before  with  drafts  and  checks ;  and  if  you  remember,  sir,  on  one  or  two 
occasions  he  has  been  sent  for  new  check-books  when  the  old  ones  had 
run  out." 

"  That's  very  true,"  said  Lane.  "  He  has  been  employed  here  in 
this  rendezvous  for  the  last  ten  years,  and  has  borne,  up  to  within  my 
knowledge  of  him,  an  unimpeachable  character.  If  any  more  checks 
come  in,  stop  payment  on  them  until  you  see  me,  and,  if  possible, 
detain  the  person  who  presents  them." 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  the  captain  was  back  in  his  office,  and  there 
true  to  his  appointment,  was  Lieutenant  Noel. 

"  I  have  had  a  strange  and  unpleasant  experience,  Noel,"  said  Lane. 
"  Most  of  my  papers  have  been  faultily  made  out.  My  clerk  deserted 
last  night  and  has  turned  out  to  be  a  most  expert  forger.  He  has 
stolen  half  a  dozen  checks  from  my  book,  made  them  out  to  the  order 
of  various  parties,  forged  the  endorsements  himself,  got  the  money 
yesterday  afternoon,  and  cleared  out,  no  one  knows  where." 

"  Great  Scott,  old  man  !  that  is  hard  luck  !  How  much  has  he  let 
you  in  for?"  asked  Noel,  in  the  slang  of  the  period. 

"  Only  a  hundred  and  sixty  dollars,  fortunately  ;  and  I  have  made 
that  good  this  morning, — placed  my  own  check  to  the  credit  of  the 
recruiting-fund  in  the  First  National  Bank,  so  that  in  turning  over  the 


32  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

funds  to  you  there  will  be  no  loss.  "We  have  to  make  new  papers  for 
the  clothing  account ;  but  as  quickly  as  possible  I  will  have  them  ready 
for  your  signature  and  mine." 

"  There  is  no  hurry  whatever,  old  fellow,"  answered  Noel,  cheerily. 
*'  I've  come  back  from  the  regiment  a  little  short  of  money,  and  I  want 
to  have  a  nest-egg  in  the  bank  to  begin  with.  It's  a  good  thing  to  have 
a  fat  cousin,  isn't  it?  He  has  always  been  very  liberal  and  kind  to 
me,  and,  luckily,  I've  only  drawn  on  him  twice.  So  I'll  hurry  along." 

Five  minutes  after  Noel  left,  a  district  messenger  entered  with  a 
note  for  Captain  Lane.  It  was  addressed  to  him  in  the  handwriting 
of  Mr.  Vincent.  He  opened  it  with  a  trembling  hand.  It  contained 
merely  these  words : 

"I  am  obliged  to  leave  for  New  York  this  afternoon.  Can  you 
come  to  my  office  at  one  o'clock  ?  We  can  then  talk  without  interrup 
tion  ;  and  I  much  desire  to  see  you. 

"  T.  L.  y ." 

As  the  big  bell  on  the  city  hall  had  struck  one,  Captain  Lane  ap 
peared  at  the  office  of  Vincent,  Clark  &  Co.,  and  was  shown  without 
delay  into  the  private  room  of  the  senior  partner.  Mr.  Vincent,  look 
ing  even  older  and  grayer  in  the  wan  light  at  the  rear  of  the  massive 
building,  was  seated  at  his  desk  and  busily  occupied  with  a  book  of 
memoranda  and  figures.  He  pushed  back  his  chair  and  came  for 
ward  at  once  at  sight  of  Lane,  and  motioned  to  the  clerk  to  retire.  The 
cavalryman's  heart  was  beating  harder  then  he  had  any  recollection  of 
its  ever  doing  before,  except  in  her  presence,  and  he  felt  that  his  knees 
were  trembling.  But  the  old  gentleman's  greeting  gave  him  instant 
hope: 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come,  my  dear  sir :  I  am  glad  to  know  a 
man  who  has  been  taught  as  I  was  taught.  Young  people  nowadays 
seem  to  rush  into  matrimony  without  the  faintest  reference  to  their 
parents,  and  your  letter  was  a  surprise  to  me, — a  surprise,  that  is,  in 
the  fact  that  you  should  have  sought  my  permission  at  all. 

"  Take  this  chair,  captain,"  he  continued,  as  he  returned  to  his  desk. 
"  I  have  much  to  say  to  you,"  he  added,  with  a  sigh.  "  Let  me  say 
at  once  that  from  what  I  know  and  have  heard  of  you  there  is  no  man 
of  my  acquaintance  to  whom  I  could  intrust  my  daughter's  future  with 
more  implicit  confidence.  It  is  true  that  both  her  mother  and  I  had  at 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  33 

one  time  other  hopes  and  views  for  her,  and  that  we  wish  your  profes 
sion  was  not  that  of  arms.  And  now  I  beg  you  to  be  patient  with  me, 
and  to  pardon  my  alluding  to  matters  which  you  yourself  broach  in  this 
— this  most  manful  letter.  You  tell  me  that  you  are  not  dependent  on 
your  pay  alone,  but  that  from  investments  in  real  estate  in  growing 
cities  in  the  West  and  in  mines  in  New  Mexico  your  present  income 
is  some  five  thousand  dollars.  As  I  understand  you,  the  property  is 
steadily  increasing  in  value  ?" 

"It  has  steadily  increased  thus  far,  sir,  and  I  think  it  will  continue 
to  do  so  for  several  years  to  come, — in  the  real  estate  investments  at 
least." 

"  I  am  glad  of  this,  on  your  account  as  well  as  hers,  for  Mabel  has 
been  reared  in  comparative  luxury.  She  has  never  known  what  it  was 
to  want  anything  very  much  or  very  long.  She  has  been  educated 
on  the  supposition  that  her  whole  life  would  be  one  equally  free  from 
care  or  stint;  and  if  I  were  to  die  to-morrow,  sir,  she  would  be  a 
beggar." 

And  here,  in  great  agitation,  the  old  gentleman  rose  from  his  chair 
and  began  nervously  pacing  up  and  down  the  little  room,  wringing  his 
white,  tremulous  hands,  and  turning  his  face  away  from  the  silent 
soldier,  that  he  might  not  see  the  tears  that  hung  to  the  lashes,  or  the 
piteous  quivering  of  the  sensitive  lips.  For  a  moment  or  two  nothing 
more  was  said.  Then,  as  though  in  surprise,  Mr.  Vincent  stopped  short. 

"Did  you  understand  me,  Captain  Lane?  I  do  not  exaggerate 
the  situation  in  the  least.  I  do  not  know  how  soon  the  axe  will  fall. 
We  are  safe  for  to-day,  but  know  not  what  the  morrow  may  bring  forth. 
I  may  be  met  en  route  by  telegrams  saying  that  the  journey  is  useless, — 
that  we  are  ruined, — and  the  money  I  hope  to  get  in  New  York  to  tide 
us  over  would  come  only  too  late.  Next  month  at  this  time  the  house 
in  which  Mabel  was  born  and  reared  may  be  sold  over  her  head,  with 
every  scrap  and  atom  of  its  furniture,  and  we  be  driven  into  exile. 
Do  you  realize  this,  sir  ?  Do  you  understand  that  if  you  win  her  affec 
tion  and  she  become  your  wife  I  have  not  a  penny  with  which  to  blesa 
her?" 

"  Mr.  Vincent,"  answered  Lane,  "  I  would  hold  myself  richer  than 
any  man  in  this  world  if  I  could  know  that  your  daughter  cared  fcr  me 
and  would  be  my  wife.  Do  not  think  that  I  fail  to  sympathize  and 
feel  for  you  and  all  who  are  dear  to  you  in  your  distress  and  anxiety, 
but  I  am  almost  glad  to  hear  that  she  is  not  the  heiress  people  said 
B* 


34  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

she  was.  It  is  Mabel  I  want," — and  here  his  voice  trembled  almost  as 
much  as  the  old  man's,  and  his  honest  gray  eyes  filled  up  with  tears 
he  could  not  down, — "and  with  her  for  my  own  I  could  ask  nothing 
of  any  man.  I  have  your  consent  to  see  her,  then,  at  once  if  need  be  ? 
You  know  I  am  relieved  from  duty  here  and  must  rejoin  my  regiment 
within  ten  days." 

"  My  full  consent,  and  my  best  wishes,  captain,"  said  Mr.  Vincent, 
grasping  the  outstretched  hand  in  both  his  own.  "You  have  not 
spoken  to  her  at  all  ?" 

"  Not  a  word,  Mr.  Vincent ;  and  I  can  form  no  idea  what  her 
answer  will  be.  Pardon  me,  sir,  but  has  she  or  has  Mrs.  Vincent  any 
knowledge  of  your  business  troubles  ?" 

"  My  wife  knows,  of  course,  that  everything  is  going  wrong  and 
that  I  am  desperately  harassed ;  Mabel,  too,  knows,  that  I  have  lost 
much  money — very  much — in  the  last  two  years ;  but  neither  of  them 
knows  the  real  truth, — that  even  my  life-insurance  is  gone.  A  year 
ago  I  strove  to  obtain  additional  amounts  in  the  three  companies  in 
which  I  had  taken  out  policies  years  ago.  Of  course  a  rigid  examina 
tion  had  to  be  made  by  the  medical  advisers,  and  the  result  was  the 
total  rejection  of  my  applications,  and  in  two  cases  an  offer  to  return 
with  interest  all  the  premiums  hitherto  paid.  The  physicians  had  all 
discovered  serious  trouble  with  my  heart.  Last  winter  our  business 
was  at  its  lowest  ebb.  I  had  been  fortunate  in  some  speculations  on 
'Change  in  the  past,  and  I  strove  to  restore  our  failing  fortunes  in  that 
way.  My  margins  were  swept  away  like  chaff,  and  I  have  been  vainly 
striving  to  regain  them  for  the  last  three  months,  until  now  the  last 
cent  that  I  could  raise  is  waiting  the  result  of  this  week's  deal.  Every 
man  in  all  the  great  markets  East  and  West  knew  three  weeks  ago  that 
a  powerful  and  wealthy  syndicate  had  '  cornered/  as  we  say,  all  the 
wheat  to  be  had,  and  was  forcing  the  price  up  day  by  day ;  and  I 
had  started  in  on  the  wrong  side.  Even  if  the  corner  were  to  break 
to-morrow  I  could  not  recover  half  my  losses.  The  offer  the  insurance 
companies  made  was  eagerly  accepted,  sir :  I  took  their  money,  and  it 
dribbled  away  through  my  broker's  fingers.  If  wheat  goes  up  one 
cent,  we  cannot  meet  our  obligations, — we  are  gone.  We  have  been 
compelled  to  borrow  at  ruinous  rates  in  order  to  meet  our  calls  :  I  say 
we,  for  poor  Clark  is  with  me  in  the  deal,  and  it  means  ruin  for  him 
too,  though  he,  luckily,  has  neither  wife  nor  child.  Are  you  ready, 
sir,  to  ally  your  name  with  that  of  a  ruined  and  broken  man, — to 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  35 

wed  a  beggar's  daughter  ?"  And  here  poor  old  Vincent  fairly  broke 
down  and  sobbed  aloud.  Long  watching,  sleepless  nights,  suspense, 
wretched  anxiety,  the  averted  looks  and  whispered  comments  of  the 
men  he  daily  met  on  'Change,  the  increasing  brusqueness  and  insolence 
of  his  broker,  Warden, — all  had  combined  to  humiliate  and  crush  him. 
He  threw  himself  upon  the  sofa,  his  worn  old  frame  shaking  and 
quivering  with  grief.  The  sight  was  too  much  for  Lane.  This  was 
her  father :  it  was  her  home  that  was  threatened,  her  name  that  was 
in  jeopardy. 

"  Mr.  Vincent,"  he  cried,  almost  imploringly,  "  I  cannot  tell  you 
how  utterly  my  sympathy  is  with  you  in  your  anxiety  and  distress.  I 
beg  you  not  to  give  way, — not  to  abandon  hope.  I — I  think  it  may 
be  in  my  power  to  help  a  little ;  only — it  must  be  a  secret  between  us. 
She — Mabel  must  never  know." 

VL 

In  the  three  days  that  followed,  the  transfer  of  funds  and  property 
at  the  recruiting  rendezvous  took  place,  and  Mr.  Noel  stepped  in,  vice 
Lane,  relieved  and  ordered  to  join  his  regiment.  The  former  was 
having  a  delightful  time.  A  guest  of  the  wealthy  Witherses  could  not 
long  be  a  stranger  within  their  gates  to  the  Queen  citizens,  and  every 
afternoon  and  evening  found  him  enjoying  hospitalities  of  the  most  cor 
dial  character.  At  the  club  he  had  already  become  hail-fellow  with  all 
the  younger  element  and  had  made  himself  decidedly  popular  among 
the  elders,  and  every  man  who  had  not  met  that  jolly  Captain  Noel  was 
eager  to  be  presented  to  him.  He  was  ready  for  pool,  billiards,  bowl 
ing,  or  a  drink  the  moment  he  got  within  the  stately  door-way ;  and, 
as  he  sang,  whistled,  laughed,  chatted,  and  cracked  innumerable  jokes 
during  the  various  games,  was  a  capital  mimic,  and  could  personate  Pat, 
Hans,  or  Crapaud  with  telling  effect,  his  presence  was  pronounced  by 
every  one  as  better  than  a  solid  week  of  sunshine, — something  the 
Queen  City  rarely,  if  ever,  experienced. 

Poor  Lane,  on  the  contrary,  was  nearly  worrying  his  heart  out. 
He  had  gone  to  the  Vincents'  the  very  evening  on  which  he  had  seen 
the  father  of  the  family  off  for  New  York,  and  had  nerved  himself  to 
put  his  fortune  to  the  test, — to  tell  her  of  his  deep  and  devoted  love 
and  to  ask  her  to  be  his  wife.  That  she  well  knew  he  loved  her,  with 
out  being  told,  he  felt  sure  must  be  the  case ;  but,  beyond  a  belief  that 
she  liked  and  trusted  him,  fhe  captain  had  not  the  faintest  idea  as  to 


36  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

the  nature  of  her  feelings  towards  him.  He  was  a  modest  fellow,  as 
has  been  said.  His  glass  told  him  that,  despite  a  pair  of  clear  gray 
eyes  and  a  decidedly  soldierly  cut  to  his  features,  he  was  not  what 
women  called  a  handsome  man;  and,  what  was  more,  theie  were  little 
strands  of  gray  just  beginning  to  show  about  his  broad  forehead  and 
in  the  heavy  moustache  that  shaded  his  mouth.  Lane  sighed  as  he 
remembered  that  he  was  in  his  thirty-sixth  year.  How  could  she  care 
for  him, — fifteen  years  her  senior?  Lane  rang  the  door-bell  that  night 
and  felt  once  more  that  his  heart  was  beating  even  as  it  did  at  one 
o'clock  when  he  was  ushered  into  the  awful  presence  of  her  father. 

"  Miss  Vincent  has  not  left  her  room  to-day,  and  is  not  well  enough 
to  come  down  to-night,  sir,"  said  the  servant  who  came  to  the  door, 
"and  Mrs.  Vincent  begged  to  be  excused  because  of  Miss  Mabel's 
needing  her." 

"  I — I  am  very,  very  sorry,"  stammered  the  captain.  "  Please  say 
that  Mr.  Lane  called"  (they  had  known  him  so  well  for  two  months 
as  Mr.  Lane  that  he  could  not  yet  refer  to  himself  by  his  new  title), 
"  and — and  would  call  again  to-morrow,  hoping  to  hear  Miss  Vincent 
was  much  better." 

And  then,  dejected  and  miserable,  and  yet  with  something  akin  to 
the  feeling  one  experiences  when  going  to  a  dentist's  to  have  a  tooth 
drawn  and  the  dreaded  wielder  of  the  forceps  proves  to  be  away,  Lane 
retreated  down  the  broad  stone  steps  until  he  reached  the  walk,  gazed 
up  at  the  dim  light  in  the  window  which  he  thought  might  be  hers, 
anathematized  himself  for  his  lack  of  self-possession  in  not  having  asked 
whether  there  wasn't  something  he  could  bring  her, — something  she 
would  like, — for  the  simple-hearted  fellow  would  have  tramped  all 
night  all  over  town  to  find  and  fetch  it, — and  then  a  happy  thought 
occurred  to  him  :  "  Women  always  love  flowers."  He  ran  to  the  next 
street,  boarded  a  west-bound  car,  and  was  soon  far  down  town  at  his 
favorite  florist's. 

"  Give  me  a  big  box  of  cut  flowers, — the  handsomest  you  have," 
he  said  ;  and  while  they -were  being  prepared  he  wrote  a  few  lines  on 
a  card,  tore  it  up,  tried  again  on  another,  and  similarly  reduced  that 
to  fragments,  and  finally,  though  far  from  content,  limited  the  expression 
of  his  emotions  to  the  simple  words, — 

"  Do  get  well  by  Saturday  at  latest.  I  cannot  go  without  seeing 
you.  F.  L." 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  37 

"  Where  shall  we  send  them,  sir  ?"  asked  the  florist,  as  he  came 
forward  with  the  box  in  his  hand. 

"  Never  mind :  I'll  take  it  myself,"  was  the  answer,  as  the  captain 
popped  in  the  little  missive. 

And  when  he  got  back  to  the  house  the  light  was  still  burning  in 
the  window  in  the  second  story,  and  the  doctor  had  just  left,  said  the 
sympathetic  Abigail,  and  had  said  that  it  was  nothing  serious  or  alarm 
ing  :  Miss  Mabel  would  have  to  keep  quiet  a  day  or  two ;  that  was  all. 

But  what  hard  luck  for  poor  Lane,  when  the  days  of  his  stay  were 
so  very  few!  All  Thursday  morning  was  spent  at  the  rendezvous, 
counting  over  property  and  comparing  papers  with  Noel.  Then,  while 
that  gentleman  went  to  the  club  for  luncheon  the  captain  hastened  to 
the  Vincents'  door  to  renew  inquiries,  and  was  measurably  comforted 
by  the  news  that  Miss  Mabel  was  much  better,  though  still  confined  to 
her  room.  Would  he  not  come  in  ?  Mrs.  Vincent  was  out,  but  she 
thought — did  that  most  intelligent  young  woman,  Mary  Ann — that 
perhaps  there  was  a  message  for  him.  Like  Mr.  Toots,  poor  Lane,  in 
his  anxiety  to  put  no  one  to  any  trouble,  came  within  an  ace  of  stam 
mering,  "  It's  of  no  consequence,"  but  checked  himself  in  time,  and 
stepped  into  the  bright  parlor  in  which  he  had  spent  so  many  delicious 
hours  listening  to  her  soft  rich  voice  as  she  sang,  or  as  she  chatted 
blithely  with  him  and  her  frequent  guests.  It  was  some  time  before 
Mary  Ann  returned.  Evidently,  there  was  a  message,  for  the  girl's 
face  was  dimpled  with  smiles  as  she  handed  him  a  little  note.  "  Miss 
Mabel  says  please  excuse  pencil,  sir ;  she  had  to  write  lying  down. 
Miss  Holton  has  just  gone  away,  after  spending  most  of  the  morning." 

Excuse  pencil !  Lane  could  hardly  wait  to  read  the  precious  lines. 
How  he  longed  to  give  the  girl  a  five-dollar  bill !  but  this  wasn't 
England,  and  he  did  not  know  how  Mary  Ann  would  regard  such  a 
proffer.  She  promptly  and  discreetly  retired,  leaving  the  front  door 
open  for  his  exit,  and  the  sweet  June  sunshine  and  the  soft  warm 
breath  of  early  summer  flowing  in  through  the  broad  vestibule. 

"  How  good  you  are  to  me  !"  she  wrote.  "  The  flowers  were — and 
are  still — exquisite.  I  shall  be  down-stairs  a  little  while  to-morrow 
afternoon,  if  the  doctor  is  good  to  me  as  you  are.  Then  I  can  thank 
you,  can  I  not  ?  M.  L.  V." 

The  hours  dragged  until  Friday  afternoon  came.     He  had  to  go  to 

4 


38  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

the  Witherses'  to  dinner  on  Thursday  evening,  and  a  dreary,  ostenta 
tious,  ponderous  feast  it  was.  Noel,  in  his  full-dress  uniform,  was  the 
hero  of  the  hour.  He  greeted  Lane  a  trifle  nervously. 

"  I  meant  to  have  telephoned  and  begged  you  to  bear  me  out,  old 
man,"  said  he,  "  but  this  thing  was  sprung  on  me  after  I  got  home. 
Cousin  Mattie  simply  ordered  me  to  appear  in  my  war-paint,  and  I  had 
to  do  it.  You  are  to  go  in  to  dinner  with  her,  by  the  way  ;  and  I  wish 
you  were  en  grande  tenue  instead  of  civilian  spike-tail.  Here's  Amos." 

And  Amos  marched  him  around  to  one  guest  after  another, — "  self- 
made  men,  sir," — heavy  manufacturers  and  money-makers,  with  their 
overdressed  wives.  Lane  strove  hard  to  be  entertaining  to  his  hostess, 
but  that  lady's  mind  was  totally  engrossed  in  the  progress  of  the 
feast  and  dread  of  possible  catastrophe  to  style  or  service.  Her  eyes 
glanced  nervously  from  her  husband  to  the  butler  and  his  assistants, 
and  her  lips  perpetually  framed  inaudible  instructions  or  warnings, 
and  so  it  happened  that  the  captain  was  enabled  to  chat  a  good  deal 
with  a  slight,  dark-eyed,  and  decidedly  intelligent  girl  who  sat  to  his 
right  and  who  was  totally  ignored  by  the  young  cub  who  took  her  in, 
— the  eldest  son  of  the  house  of  Withers,  a  callow  youth  of  twenty. 

"  You  did  not  hear  my  name,  I  know,"  she  had  said  to  him.  "  I  am 
Miss  Marshall,  a  very  distant  connection  of  Mrs.  Withers's,  the  teacher 
of  her  younger  children,  and  the  merest  kind  of  an  accident  at  this 
table.  Miss  Faulkner  was  compelled  to  send  her  excuses  at  the  last 
moment,  and  so  I  was  detailed — isn't  that  your  soldier  expression  ? — • 
to  fill  the  gap." 

"  And  where  did  you  learn  our  army  expressions,  may  I  ask  ?" 
said  Lane,  smilingly. 

"  I  had  a  cousin  in  the  artillery  some  years  ago,  and  visited  his 
wife  when  they  were  stationed  at  the  old  barracks  across  the  river. 
There's  no  one  there  now,  I  believe.  Listen  to  Captain  Noel :  he  is 
telling  about  Indian  campaigns." 

Indeed,  pretty  much  everybody  was  listening  already,  for  Noel,  with 
much  animation,  was  recounting  the  experiences  of  the  chase  after  the 
Chiricahua  chieftain  Geronimo.  He  was  an  excellent  talker,  and  most 
diplomatic  and  skilful  in  the  avoidance  of  any  direct  reference  to  him 
self  as  the  hero  of  the  series  of  dramatic  incidents  which  he  so  graphically 
told,  and  yet  the  impression  conveyed — and  intended  to  be  conveyed — 
was  that  no  man  had  seen  more,  endured  more,  or  ridden  harder,  faster, 
and  farther,  than  the  narrator.  Flattered  by  the  evident  interest  shown 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  39 

by  those  about  him,  and  noting  that  conversation  was  brisk  at  Lane's 
end  of  the  table,  the  lieutenant  soon  lost  himself  in  the  enthusiasm  of 
his  own  descriptions,  and  was  only  suddenly  recalled  to  earth  by  noting 
that  now  the  whole  table  had  ceased  its  dinner-chat,  and  that,  with  the 
possible  exception  of  the  hostess,  who  was  telegraphing  signals  to  the 
butler,  every  man  and  woman  present  was  looking  at  him  and  listening. 
The  color  leaped  to  his  face,  and  he  turned  towards  Lane  with  a 
nervous  laugh. 

"I'd  no  idea  I  was  monopolizing  the  talk,"  he  said.  "Fred,  old 
man,  wasn't  it  G  Troop  that  tried  to  get  across  the  range  from  your 
command  to  ours  when  we  neared  the  Guadalupe?  Amos  and  Mr. 
Hawks  had  been  asking  me  about  the  chase  after  Geronimo." 

"  Yes ;  it  was  G  Troop, — Captain  Greene's,"  answered  Lane. 

"  You  know  that  Captain  Lane  and  I  are  of  the  same  regiment, 
and,  though  not  actually  together  in  the  chase,  we  were  in  the  same 
campaign,"  said  Noel,  apologetically,  and  then,  quickly  changing  the 
subject,  "  By  the  way,  Mr.  Hawks,  is  Harry  Hawks  of  the  artillery 
a  relative  of  yours  ?" 

"  A  nephew,  captain, — my  brother  Henry's  son.  Did  you  know 
him  ?" 

"  Know  him  ?  Why,  he  is  one  of  the  warmest  friends  I  have  in 
the  whole  army, — outside  of  my  own  regiment,  that  is.  We  were  con 
stantly  together  one  winter  when  I  was  on  staif  duty  in  Washington, 
and  whenever  he  could  get  leave  to  run  up  from  the  barracks  he  made 
my  quarters  his  home.  If  you  ever  write  to  him  just  ask  him  if  he 
knows  Gordon  Noel." 

"  Do  you  know,  Captain  Lane,  that  I  have  found  your  comrade 
captain  a  very  interesting  man  ?"  observed  Miss  Marshall ;  and  her 
eyes  turned  upon  her  next-door  neighbor  in  calm  but  keen  scrutiny. 

"  Noel  is  very  entertaining,"  was  the  reply  ;  and  the  dark-gray  eyes 
looked  unflinchingly  into  the  challenge  of  the  dark-brown. 

"Yes,  I  have  listened  to  his  tales  of  the  frontier,  at  breakfast, 
dinner,  and  during  the  evening  hours,  since  Sunday  last.  They  are 
full  of  vivacity  and  variety." 

"  One  sees  a  good  deal  of  strange  country  and  many  strange  people 
in  the  course  of  ten  or  a  dozen  years'  service  in  the  cavalry." 

"  And  must  needs  have  a  good  memory  to  be  able  to  tell  of  it  all, — 
especially  when  one  recounts  the  same  incident  more  than  once."  And 


40  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

Miss  Marshall's  lips  were  twitching  at  the  corners  in  a  manner  sug 
gestive  of  mischief  and  merriment  combined. 

Lane  "  paused  for  a  reply."  Here  was  evidently  a  most  observant 
young  woman. 

"  There !  I  did  not  mean  to  tax  your  loyalty  to  a  regimental  com 
rade,  captain :  so  you  need  not  answer.  Captain  Noel  interests  and 
entertains  me  principally  because  of  his  intense  individuality  and  his 
entire  conviction  that  he  carries  his  listeners  with  him.  '  Age  cannot 
wither  nor  custom  stale  his  infinite  variety ;'  but  there  should  not  be 
quite  so  much  variety  in  his  descriptions  of  a  single  event.  This  is 
the  fourth  time  I  have  heard  him  tell  of  the  night-ride  from  Carrizo's 
Ranch  to  Cafion  Diablo." 

"  You  have  the  advantage  of  me,  Miss  Marshall,"  answered  Lane, 
his  eyes  twinkling  with  appreciation  of  her  demure  but  droll  exposure 
of  Noel's  weak  point.  "  It  is  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  his  version 
of  it." 

"  It  is  the  last  time  he  will  mention  it  in  your  presence,  if  he  saw 
the  expression  in  your  face,  Captain  Lane." 

"  Do  those  introspective  eyes  of  yours  look  clear  through  and  see 
out  of  the  back  of  your  head,  Miss  Marshall  ?  Your  face  was  turned 
towards  him.  You  stopped  short  in  telling  me  of  your  cousin  in  the 
artillery  and  your  visit  to  the  barracks,  and  bade  me  listen  to  some 
thing  I  did  not  care  half  as  much  to  hear  as  your  own  impressions  of 
garrison-life.  Never  mind  the  quadruplex  account  of  the  night-ride. 
Tell  me  what  you  thought  of  the  army." 

"  Well,  of  course  the  first  thing  a  girl  wants  to  know  is  what  the 
shoulder-straps  mean  ;  and  I  learned  the  very  first  day  that  the  blank 
strap  meant  a  second  lieutenant,  a  single  silver  bar  a  first  lieutenant, 
and  two  bars  a  captain, — that  is,  in  the  artillery.  Now,  why  this  pro 
voking  distinction  in  the  cavalry  ?  Here's  a  captain  with  only  one  bar, 
a  captain  whose  letters  from  the  War  Department  come  addressed  to 
Lieutenant  Gordon  Noel !" 

"  Noel  never  speaks  of  himself  as  captain,  I'm  sure,"  said  Lane. 

"  Neither  do  you ;  and  for  a  year  past,  ever  since  I  have  known 
you  by  sight," — and  here  a  quick  blush  mounted  to  her  temples, — "  you 
occasionally  came  to  our  church,  you  know,"  she  hastened  to  explain, — 
u  you  have  been  referred  to  as  Lieutenant  Lane  or  Mr.  Lane ;  but  we 
know  you  are  a  captain  now,  for  we  saw  the  promotion  recorded  in  the 
Washington  despatches  a  fortnight  ago.  What  was  the  date  of  Captain 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  41 

Noel's  elevation  to  that  grade?  I  confess  I  took  him  for  your  junioi 
in  the  service  and  in  years  too." 

"  Yes,  Noel  holds  well  on  to  his  youth,"  answered  Lane,  smilingly. 

"  And  about  the  captaincy  ?" 

"Well,  he  is  so  very  near  it,  and  it  is  so  apt  to  come  any  day,  that 
perhaps  he  thinks  it  just  as  well  to  let  people  get  accustomed  to  calling 
him  that.  Then  he  won't  have  to  break  them  all  in  when  the  com 
mission  does  come." 

"  Then  he  is  your  junior,  of  course  ?" 

"  Only  by  a  file  or  so.     He  entered  service  very  soon  after  me." 

"  But  was  not  in  your  class  at  West  Point  ?" 

"  No  :  he  was  not  in  my  class." 

"  In  the  next  one,  then,  I  presume  ?" 

"  Miss  Marshall,  is  your  first  name  Portia  ?  I  should  hate  to  be  a 
witness  whom  you  had  the  privilege  of  cross-examining.  There  are 
ladies  '  learned  in  the  law,'  and  I  expect  to  read  of  you  as  called  to  the 
bar  within  a  year  or  two." 

"  Never  mind,  Captain  Lane.  I  will  ask  you  nothing  more  about 
him." 

"  No,  Miss  Marshall,  I  presume  that  my  clumsiness  has  rendered 
it  totally  unnecessary." 

That  night,  as  the  guests  were  dispersing,  Lane  did  what  most 
of  them  entirely  omitted :  he  went  over  to  the  piano  and  bade  Miss 
Marshall  good-night. 

"  Captain  Lane,"  she  said,  "  I  beg  your  pardon  if  I  have  been  too 
inquisitive  and  too  critical,  as  I  know  I  have  been ;  but  you  have 
taught  me  that  you  know  how  to  guard  a  comrade's  failings  from  the 
world.  Will  you  not  forgive  a  woman's  weakness  ?" 

"  There  is  nothing  to  forgive,  Miss  Marshall.  I  hope  sincerely 
that  we  may  meet  again  before  I  go  back  to  the  regiment." 

And  later,  as  Lane  was  walking  homeward  from  a  final  peep  at  the 
dim  light  in  a  certain  window,  he  had  time  to  think  how  intolerable 
that  dinner  would  have  seemed  had  it  not  been  for  the  accident  which 
placed  that  dark-eyed  governess  by  his  side. 

VII. 

Lane  was  awake  with  the  sun  on  Friday  morning,  and  lay  for  a 
few  moments  listening  to  the  twittering  of  the  sparrows  about  his 

4* 


42  TWO  SOLDIERS, 

window-sills,  and  watching  the  slanting,  rosy-red  shafts  of  light  that 
streamed  through  the  intervals  in  the  Venetian  blinds.  "Does  it  augur 
bright  fortune?  Does  it  mean  victory?  Is  it  like  the  'sun  of  Aus- 
terlitz'  ?"  were  the  questions  that  crowded  through  his  brain.  To-day — 
to-day  she  was  to  "  be  down  for  a  little  while  in  the  afternoon,"  and 
then  she  "hoped  to  be  able  to  thank  him.  Could  she?"  Ten  thou 
sand  times  over  and  over  again  she  could,  if  she  would  but  whisper  one 
little  word — Yes — in  answer  to  his  eager  question.  It  lacked  hours 
yet  until  that  longed-for  afternoon  could  come.  It  was  not  five  o'clock  ; 
but  more  sleep  was  out  of  the  question,  and  lying  there  in  bed  intoler 
able.  Much  to  the  surprise  of  his  darky  valet,  Lane  had  had  his  bath, 
dressed,  and  disappeared  by  the  time  the  former  came  to  rouse  him. 

Noel  was  late  in  reaching  the  rendezvous.  It  was  after  ten  when 
he  appeared,  explaining  that  Mrs.  Withers  was  far  from  well,  and 
therefore  Cousin  Amos  would  not  leave  the  house  until  the  doctor  had 
seen  her  and  made  his  report.  Lane  received  his  explanation  some 
what  coldly,  and  suggested  that  they  go  right  to  work  with  their 
papers,  as  he  had  important  engagements.  It  was  high  noon  when 
they  finished  the  matters  in  hand,  and  then  the  captain  hastened  to  the 
club,  and  was  handed  a  telegram  with  the  information  that  it  had  only 
just  come.  It  was  evidently  expected.  Lane  quickly  read  it  and  care 
fully  stowed  it  away  in  an  inside  pocket.  In  another  moment  he  was 
speeding  down  town,  and  by  half- past  twelve  was  closeted  with  the 
junior  partner  of  the  tottering  house  of  Vincent,  Clark  &  Co.  Mr. 
Clark  was  pale  and  nervous ;  every  click  of  the  "  ticker"  seemed  to 
make  him  start.  A  clerk  stood  at  the  instrument,  watching  the  rapidly- 
dotted  quotations. 

"  Have  you  heard  from  Mr.  Vincent  ?"  was  the  first  question  ;  and. 
without  a  word,  a  telegram  was  handed  him.  It  was  in  cipher,  as  he 
saw  at  once,  and  Clark  supplied  the  transcription  : 

"  Rossiter  refuses.  Watch  market  closely.  See  Warden  instant 
touches  half.  Break  predicted  here." 

"  Twenty  minutes  more  !"  groaned  Clark,  as  he  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands.  "  Twenty  minutes  more  of  this  awful  suspense  !" 

"  What  was  the  last  report  ?"  asked  Lane,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Ninety-eight  and  a  quarter.  My  God  !  Think  of  it  !  Three- 
quarters  of  a  cent  between  us  and  beggary  !  I  could  bear  it,  but  not 
Vincent :  'twould  kill  him.  Even  his  home  is  mortgaged." 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  43 

There  came  a  quick,  sharp  tap  at  the  glazed  door  :  the  clerk's  head 
was  thrust  in  : 

"  Three-eighths,  sir." 

"  It's  time  to  move,  then,"  said  Lane.  "  I  cannot  follow  you  to 
the  floor, — I  have  no  ticket ;  but  I  will  be  awaiting  your  call  at  the 

Merchants'  Exchange.  Mr.  Vincent  has  told  you Better  have  it 

in  Treasury  notes, — one  hundred  each, — had  you  not  ?" 

"  I'll  see  Warden  at  once.  D — n  him  !  he  would  sell  us  out  with 
no  more  compunctions  than  he  would  shoot  a  hawk." 

"  You  infer  that  Mr.  Vincent  has  had  no  success  in  raising  money 
in  New  York  ?"  asked  Lane,  as  they  hurried  from  the  office. 

"  Not  an  atom !  He  made  old  Rossiter  what  he  is, — hauled  him 
out  of  the  depths,  set  him  on  his  feet,  took  him  in  here  with  him  for 
ten  years,  sent  him  East  with  a  fortune  that  he  has  trebled  since  in 
Wall  Street,  and  row,  by  heaven  !  the  cold-blooded  brute  will  not  lend 
him  a  pitiful  twenty  thousand." 

At  the  bank  Lane  found  an  unusual  number  of  men,  and  there 
was  an  air  of  suppressed  excitement.  Telegraph-boys  would  rush  in 
every  now  and  then  with  despatches  for  various  parties,  and  these  were 
eagerly  opened  and  read.  Scraps  of  low,  earnest  conversation  reached 
him  as  he  stood,  a  silent  watcher.  "  They  cannot  stand  it  another  day." 
"  They've  been  raining  wheat  on  them  from  every  corner  of  the  North 
and  West.  No  gang  can  stand  up  under  it."  "  It's  bound  to  break," 
etc.  To  an  official  of  the  bank  who  knew  him  well  he  showed  the 
telegram  he  had  received  at  the  club,  and  the  gentleman  looked  up  in 
surprise : 

"  Do  you  want  this  now,  captain  ?     Surely  you  are  not " 

"No,  I'm  not,  most  emphatically,"  replied  Lane,  with  a  quiet 
laugh.  "  Yet  I  may  have  sudden  use  for  that  sum.  I  telegraphed  to 
my  agents  at  Cheyenne  yesterday.  You,  perhaps,  ought  to  wire  at 
once  and  verify  it." 

"  Those  are  our  bank  rules,  and  I  presume  it  will  be  done ;  though 
of  course  we  know " 

"Never  mind.  I  much  prefer  you  should,  and  at  once."  And, 
leaving  the  man  of  business  to  attend  to  the  necessary  formality,  Lane 
strolled  to  a  window  and  looked  down  the  crowded  street  towards  the 
massive  building  in  which  the  desperate  grapple  'twixt  bull  and  bear 
was  at  its  height.  The  day  was  hot ;  men  rushed  by,  mopping  their 
levered  brows ;  a  throng  of  people  had  gathered  near  the  broad  en- 


44  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

trance  to  the  Chamber,  and  all  its  windows  were  lowered  to  secure  free 
and  fresh  currents  of  air.  Lane  fancied  he  could  hear  the  shouts  of 
the  combatants  in  the  pit  even  above  the  ceaseless  roar  and  rattle  of 
wheels  upon  the  stone  pavement.  Little  by  little  the  minute-hand  was 
stealing  to  the  vertical,  and  still  no  sign  from  Clark.  "  Has  she  touched 
a  half  yet  ?"  he  heard  one  man  eagerly  ask  another  as  they  dived  into 
the  broker's  office  underneath. 

"Not  yet;  but  I'm  betting  she  does  inside  of  five  minutes  and 
reaches  ninety-nine  first  thing  to-morrow." 

At  last,  boom  went  the  great  bell, — a  single,  solemn  stroke. 
There  was  a  rush  of  men  for  the  street,  a  general  scurry  towards  the 
great  Board  of  Trade  building,  a  rapidly-increasing  crowd  along  the 
curb-stones  as  the  members  came  pouring  out,  and  brokers  and  their 
customers  hurried  away  towards  numberless  little  offices  all  over  the 
neighborhood.  Dozens  of  them  passed  along  under  his  post  of  obser 
vation,  some  flushed,  some  deathly  pale,  and  finally  Clark  himself  ap 
peared,  and  Lane  hastened  forth  to  meet  him. 

"  Saved  by  a  mere  squeak  so  far,"  was  the  almost  breathless  whisper 
as  Clark  removed  his  hat  and  wiped  his  clammy  forehead.  "  But  we 
know  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  It's  a  mere  respite." 

"  Can  the  syndicate  carry  any  more  weight,  think  you  ?  Prices 
jumped  up  two  and  three  weeks  ago.  Now  they  only  climb  a  hair's- 
breadth  at  a  time.  I  hear  they  are  loaded  down, — that  it  must  break ; 
but  I'm  no  expert  in  these  matters." 

"  If  you  were,  you'd  be  wise  to  keep  out  of  it.  "Who  can  say 
whether  they  will  break  or  not?  It  is  what  everybody  confidently 
predicted  when  eighty-nine  was  touched  twelve  days  ago ;  and  look 
at  it !" 

"  Do  you  go  back  to  the  office  from  here  ?  Good  !  I'll  join  you 
there  in  ten  minutes,"  said  Lane,  "  for  I  shall  not  come  down  town  this 
afternoon,  and  may  not  be  able  to  in  the  morning." 

And  when  Captain  Lane  appeared  at  the  office  of  Vincent,  Clark 
&  Co.  he  brought  with  him  a  stout  little  packet,  which,  after  the  ex 
change  of  a  few  words  and  a  scrap  or  two  of  paper,  Mr.  Clark  care 
fully  stowed  in  the  innermost  compartment  of  the  big  safe.  Then  he 
grasped  Lane's  hand  in  both  of  his,  as  the  captain  said  good-by. 

That  afternoon,  quite  late,  the  captain  rang  at  the  Vincents'  door, 
and  it  was  almost  instantly  opened  by  the  smiling  Abigail  whom  he  so 
longed  to  reward  for  her  evident  sympathy  the  day  before,  yet  lacked 
the  courage  to  proffer  a  greenback.  Lane  was  indeed  little  versed  in 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  45 

the  ways  of  the  world,  howsoever  well  he  might  be  informed  in  his 
profession. 

"  Miss  Vincent  is  in  the  library,  sir,  if  you  will  please  to  walk  that 
way,"  was  her  brief  communication  ;  and  the  captain,  trembling  de 
spite  his  best  efforts  to  control  himself,  stepped  past  her  into  the  broad 
hall,  and  there,  hurrying  down  the  stairway,  came  Mrs.  Vincent,  evi 
dently  to  meet  him.  Silently  she  held  forth  her  hand  and  led  him  into 
the  parlor,  and  then  he  saw  that  her  face  was  very  sad  and  pale  and 
that  her  eyes  were  red  with  weeping. 

"  I  will  only  detain  you  a  moment,  captain,"  she  murmured,  "  but 
I  felt  that  I  must  see  you.  Mr.  Vincent  wrote  to  me  on  the  train  as 
he  left  here,  and  he  tells  me  you  know — the  worst." 

"  Mr.  Vincent  has  honored  me  with  his  confidence,  dear  lady ;  and 
I — saw  Mr.  Clark  to-day." 

She  looked  up  eagerly :  "  What  news  had  he  from  New  York  ? 
Did  he  tell  you  ? — about  Mr.  Rossiter,  that  is  ?  I  knew  perfectly  well 
what  Mr.  Vincent's  hopes  and  expectations  were  in  going." 

"  There  was  a  telegram.  I  fear  that  he  was  disappointed  in  Mr. 
Rossiter ;  but  the  money  was  not  needed  up  to  the  closing  of  the  board 
at  one  o'clock." 

"  I  am  not  disappointed.  I  thank  God  that  the  Rossiters  refused 
him  money.  It  will  open  his  eyes  to  their  real  characters, — father  and 
son.  I  would  rather  go  and  live  in  a  hovel  than  be  under  obligations 
to  either  of  them."  And  now  the  tears  were  raining  down  her 
cheeks. 

"  Do  not  grieve  so,  Mrs.  Vincent,"  said  Lane.  "  I  cannot  believe 
the  danger  is  so  great.  I  have  listened  to  the  opinions  of  the  strongest 
men  on  'Change  this  afternoon.  A  'break'  in  this  corner  was  pre 
dicted  in  New  York  at  eleven  this  morning,  and  that  is  the  universal 
opinion  among  the  best  men  now." 

"  Yes,  but  it  may  be  days  away  yet,  and  Mr.  Vincent  has  con 
fessed  to  me  that  his  whole  fortune  hangs  by  a  single  hair, — that  this 
wretched  speculation  has  swallowed  everything, — that  a  rise  of  a  single 
penny  means  beggary  to  us,  for  he  can  no  longer  answer  his  broker's 
calls." 

"  That  may  have  been  so  when  he  wrote ;  but  Mr.  Clark  seems  to 
have  had  a  little  better  luck  locally.  I  infer  from  what  he  told  me 
that  they  were  safe  for  to-day  and  could  meet  the  raise  of  that  critical 
cent  or  two :  so  that,  despite  the  great  loss  they  have  sustained,  there 


46  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

is  not  the  certainty  of  ruin  that  so  overwhelmed  Mr.  Vincent  on 
Wednesday." 

"  You  give  me  hope  and  courage,"  cried  the  poor,  anxious-hearted 
woman,  as  she  seized  and  pressed  his  hand.  "  And — and  you  come 
to  us  in  the  midst  of  our  troubles !  Mr.  Vincent  was  so  touched  by 
your  writing  first  to  him :  it  brought  back  old  days,  old  times,  old 
fashions,  that  he  loved  to  recall, — days  when  he,  too,  was  young  and 
brave  and  full  of  hope  and  cheer." 

"  And  I  have  your  good  wishes,  too,  Mrs.  Vincent  ? — even  though  I 
am  only  a  soldier  and  have  so  little  to  offer  her  beyond — beyond " 

But  he  could  not  finish.  He  had  looked  into  her  face  with  such 
eager  hope  and  delight  when  he  began,  yet  broke  down  helplessly  when 
he  tried  to  speak  of  his  great  love  for  her  sweet  daughter. 

"  I  know  what  you  would  say,"  she  answered,  with  quick  and 
ready  sympathy.  "  I  have  seen  how  dear  my  child  has  been  to  you 
almost  from  the  very  first.  Indeed  I  do  wish  you  happiness,  Mr. 
Lane ;  but  Mr.  Vincent  told  you  that — we  once  had  other  views  for 
Mabel.  It  is  only  fair  and  right  that  you  should  know." 

"  How  could  it  have  been  otherwise,  Mrs.  Vincent  ?  Is  there  any 
man  quite  worthy  of  her  ?  Is  there  any  station  in  life  too  high  for 
one  like  her?  I  never  dared  hope  that  your  consent  could  have  been 
so  freely  given.  I  do  not  dare  hope  that  she  can  possibly  care  for  me 
—yet." 

"  I  will  not  keep  you  longer,  then,"  said  she,  smiling  through  her 
tears.  "I  shall  see  you  after  a  while,  perhaps.  Mabel  is  in  the 
library.  Now  I'll  leave  you." 

With  tumultuously-throbbing  heart,  he  softly  entered  and  quickly 
glanced  around.  The  tiers  of  almost  priceless  volumes,  the  antique 
furniture,  the  costly  Persian  rugs  and  portieres,  the  pictures,  bronzes, 
bric-jl-brac, — all  were  valueless  in  his  eager  eyes.  They  sought  one 
object  alone,  and  found  it  in  a  deep  bay-window  across  the  room. 
There,  leaning  back  in  a  great  easy  reading-chair,  with  a  magazine  in 
her  lap,  her  fair  head  pillowed  on  a  silken  cushion,  reclined  the  lady 
of  his  heart,  smiling  a  sweet  welcome  to  him,  while  the  rosy  color 
mounted  to  her  brows  as  he  came  quickly  forward  and  took  her  soft, 
white  hand.  How  he  was  trembling  !  How  his  kind  gray  eyes  were 
glowing !  She  could  not  meet  them  :  she  had  to  look  away.  She  had 
begun  some  pleasant  little  welcoming  speech,  some  half-laughing  allu 
sion  to  the  flowers,  but  she  stopped  short  in  the  midst  of  it.  A  knot 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  47 

of  half-faded  roses — his  roses — nestled  in  her  bosom,  contrasting  with 
the  pure  white  of  her  dainty  gown ;  and  now  those  treasured,  envied 
flowers  began  to  rise  and  fall,  as  though  rocked  on  the  billows  of  some 
clear  lake  stirred  by  sudden  breeze.  What  he  said,  he  did  not  know : 
she  hardly  heard,  though  her  ears  drank  in  every  word.  She  only 
realized  that  both  his  hands  were  tightly  clasping  hers,  and  that,  scorn 
ing  to  seek  a  chair  and  draw  it  to  her  side, — perhaps,  too,  because  he 
could  not  bear  to  release  even  for  an  instant  that  slender  little  hand, 
— perhaps  still  more  because  of  the  old-time  chivalry  in  his  nature  that 
had  prompted  him  to  ask  parental  sanction  before  telling  her  of  his 
deep  and  tender  love, — Captain  Lane  had  dropped  on  one  knee  close 
beside,  and,  bending  over  her,  was  pouring  forth  in  broken,  incoherent 
words  the  old,  old  story  of  a  lover's  hopes  and  fears  and  longings, — 
the  sweet  old  song  that,  day  after  day,  year  after  year,  ay,  though  sung 
since  God's  creation  of  the  beautiful  world  we  live  in,  never,  never  can 
be  heard  or  sung  except  in  rapture.  Even  though  she  be  cold  to  him 
as  stone,  no  true  woman  ever  listened  to  the  tale  of  a  man's  true  love 
without  a  thrill  at  heart.  Once,  once  only,  in  the  lifetime  of  men  like 
Lane — yes,  and  of  men  not  half  his  peers  in  depth  of  character,  in 
intensity  of  feeling — there  comes  a  moment  like  this,  and,  whether  it 
be  in  the  glow  and  fervor  and  enthusiasm  of  youth  or  the  intensity 
and  strength  of  maturer  years,  it  is  the  climax  of  a  lifetime ;  it  is  the 
date  from  which  all  others,  all  scenes,  trials,  triumphs,  take  their  due 
apportionment;  it  is  the  memory  of  all  others  that  lingers  to  the  very 
last,  when  all,  all  but  this  are  banished  from  the  dying  brain.  Rome, 
in  her  pride  of  place,  made  the  building  of  her  Capitol  the  climax  of 
mundane  history :  everything  in  her  calendar  was  "  ante  urbem  conditam" 
or  the  reverse.  The  old  world  measured  from  the  Flood ;  the  new  world 
— our  world — measures  from  the  birth  of  Him  who  died  upon  the 
cross  ;  and  the  lifetime  of  the  man  who  has  once  deeply  and  devotedly 
loved  has  found  its  climax  in  the  thrilling  moment  of  the  avowal. 

"  Have  j'ou  no  word  to  say  to  me,  Mabel  ? — not  one  word  of  hope  ? 
— not  one  ?"  he  pleaded. 

Then  she  turned  her  lovely  face,  looking  into  his  deep  eyes  through 
a  mist  of  tears. 

"  I  do  like  you,"  she  murmured ;  "I  do  honor  you  so,  Captain 
Lane ;  but  that  is  not  what  you  deserve.  There  is  no  one,  believe  me, 

whom  I  so  regard  and  esteem ;  but — I  do  not  know 1  am  not  certain 

of  myself." 


48  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

"  Let  me  try  to  win  your  love,  Mabel.  Give  me  just  that  right. 
Indeed,  indeed  I  have  not  dared  to  hope  that  so  soon  I  could  win  even 
your  trust  and  esteem.  You  make  me  so  happy  when  you  admit  even 
that." 

"  It  is  so  little  to  give,  in  return  for  what  you  have  given  me," 
she  answered,  softly,  while  her  hand  still  lay  firmly  held  in  the  clasp 
of  his. 

"  Yet  it  is  so  much  to  me.  Think,  Mabel,  in  four  days  at  most  I 
must  go  back  to  my  regiment.  I  ask  no  pledge  or  promise.  Only  let 
me  write  to  you.  Only  write  to  me  and  let  me  strive  to  arouse  at  least 
a  little  love  in  your  true  heart.  Then  by  and  by — six  months,  perhaps, 
— I'll  come  again  and  try  my  fate.  I  know  that  an  old  dragoon  like 
me,  with  gray  hairs  sprouting  in  his  moustache " 

But  here  she  laid  her  fingers  on  his  lipa,  and  then,  seizing  both  her 
hands,  he  bowed  his  head  over  them  and  kissed  them  passionately. 

The  day  of  parting  came,  all  too  soon.  Duty — the  mistress  to 
whom  he  had  never  hitherto  given  undivided  allegiance — called  him  to 
the  distant  West,  and  the  last  night  of  his  stay  found  him  bending 
over  her  in  the  same  old  window.  He  was  to  take  a  late  train  for 
St.  Louis,  and  had  said  farewell  to  all  but  her.  And  now  the  mo 
ment  had  arrived.  A  glance  at  his  watch  had  told  him  that  he  had 
but  twenty  minutes  in  which  to  reach  the  station. 

She  had  risen,  and  was  standing,  a  lovely  picture  of  graceful  woman 
hood,  her  eyes  brimming  with  tears.  Both  her  hands  were  now  clasped 
in  his ;  she  could  not  deny  him  that  at  such  a  time ;  but — but  was 
there  not  something  throbbing  in  her  heart  that  she  longed  to  tell  ? 

"  It  is  good-by  now,"  he  murmured,  his  whole  soul  in  his  glowing 
eyes,  his  infinite  love  betrayed  in  those  lips  quivering  under  the  heavy 
moustache. 

She  glanced  up  into  his  face. 

"  Fred," — and  then,  as  though  abashed  at  her  own  boldness,  the 
lovely  head  was  bowed  again  almost  on  his  breast. 

"What  is  it,  darling?  Tell  me,"  he  whispered,  eagerly,  a  wild, 
wild  hope  thrilling  through  his  heart. 

"  Would  it  make  you  happier  if — if  I — told  you  that  I  knew  my 
self  a  little  better?" 

"  Mabel !    Do  you  mean — do  you  care  for  me  ?" 

And  then  she  was  suddenly  clasped  in  his  strong,  yearning  arms 
|nd  strained  to  his  breast.  Long,  long  afterwards  he  used  to  lift  that 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  49 

travelling- coat  of  gray  tweeds  from  the  trunk  in  which  it  was  carefully 
stowed  away,  and  wonder  if — if  it  were  indeed  true  that  her  throbbing 
heart  had  thrilled  through  that  senseless  fabric,  stirring  wild  joy  and 
rapture  to  the  very  depths  of  his  own. 

"  Would  I  be  sobbing  my  heart  out,"  at  last  she  murmured,  "  if  I 
did  not  love  you  and  could  not  bear  to  have  you  go  ?" 

VIII. 

"  What  an  awfully  pretty  girl  that  Miss  Vincent  is,  Amos !"  said 
Mr.  Noel  one  morning,  as  the  cousins  were  quietly  breakfasting  together 
before  going  down  town. 

"  Pretty  ?  yes,"  said  Amos,  doubtfully.  "  But  look  here,  my  boy  : 
recollect  that  you  want  to  think  of  something  more  than  '  pretty'  in 
selecting  a  wife  while  you  are  in  here  on  this  detail.  Now,  Mrs. 
Withers  and  I  have  been  keeping  our  eyes  open,  and  our  ears  too,  for 
that  matter :  the  fact  is,  I  always  have  both  eyes  and  ears  open, — 
travel  with  them  that  way,  sleep  with  them  that  way.  I  would  not 
be  the  man  I  am  in  the  business  world,  Noel,  if  that  weren't  the  case. 
And,  pretty  though  Miss  Vincent  may  be,  she's  not  the  girl  for  you  to 
waste  your  time  on." 

"  But  why  not  ?"  asked  Noel.  "  They  have  a  magnificent  home, 
and  everything  about  it  indicates  wealth  and  refinement  and  culture ; 
and  there  is  no  denying  that  she  is  one  of  the  most  attractive  girls  in 
society  in  this  city :  certainly  I  have  seen  none  whom  I  have  admired 
more." 

"That  is  all  very  true,  perhaps,"  was  the  reply;  "but  her  father 
was  very  badly  bitten  during  that  wheat  corner  last  month,  and  in  fact 
he  has  been  losing  heavily  for  the  last  two  years.  Warden,  who  is 
his  broker  on  'Change,  let  it  leak  out  in  more  ways  than  one;  and 
that  wife  of  Warden's  is  a  regular  scandal-monger, — she  can't  help 
talking,  and  everything  she  manages  to  extract  from  him  in  the  way  of 
information  goes  broadcast  over  the  entire  city.  Of  course,  when  the 
corner  broke,  as  it  did,  old  Vincent  managed  to  pull  out  of  it  without 
absolute  loss  of  his  homestead  and  his  entire  business.  But  the  rally 
came  only  in  the  nick  of  time.  I  am  told  that  Warden  has  said  that 
if  wheat  had  gone  up  one  cent  higher  it  would  have  knocked  Vincent 
out  of  time ;  he  never  could  have  come  to  again.  Gordon  Noel,  we 
have  another  plan  for  you.  Wait  until  Ned  Terry's  sister  gets  back 
C  5 


60  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

from  the  East ;  between  her  and  her  brother  they  have  just  about  as 
much  money  invested  in  the  best-paying  business  in  this  town  as  any 
people  that  I  can  possibly  name.  She's  a  belle;  she's  just  as  pretty  aa 
Miss  Vincent.  She  isn't  as  smart,  perhaps,  but  she  is  a  woman  worth 
cultivating.  Now,  hold  your  horses.  Where  did  you  meet  her,  by  the 
way?" 

"  I  first  met  her  at  the  Thorntons'  dinner-party.  She  was  there 
with  Captain  Lane,  and  some  other  young  people  whom  I  had  not 
previously  met." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  that  reminds  me.  It  seems  to  me  I  have  heard  once  or 
twice  that  your  friend  Lane  was  very  much  smitten  in  that  quarter. 
Now,  you'd  much  better  let  him  carry  off  Miss  Vincent,  if  he  can. 
She  would  suit  his  modest  views  of  life  very  well.  But  I  don't  believe 
the  girl  has  a  penny  to  her  fortune ;  at  least  she  certainly  won't  if 
Vincent  has  no  more  luck  in  the  future  than  he  has  had  in  the  last 
year." 

"  I  took  her  down  to  dinner,"  said  Noel,  thoughtfully,  "  and  I  re 
member  that  she  talked  a  good  deal  about  the  army,  and  asked  a  great 
many  questions  about  the  cavalry.  Now  that  you  speak  of  it,  I 
noticed  that  Lane,  who  sat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  table,  didn't 
seem  to  be  particularly  interested  in  the  lady  whom  he  was  escorting, 
although  of  course  he  had  to  be  civil  and  tried  to  keep  up  a  conversa 
tion,  but  every  now  and  then  I  would  catch  him  looking  at  us,  and  par 
ticularly  at  her.  But  she  looked  so  pretty  that  I  didn't  wonder  at  it." 

"  When  did  you  next  see  her?"  said  Withers. 

"  Only  last  night.  You  know,  I  was  called  away  almost  imme 
diately  after  the  Thornton  affair,  and  had  to  go  on  to  New  York  on 
the  court-martial,  where  I  was  summoned  as  a  witness,  then  only  got 
back  in  time  for  the  party  last  night.  That  was  my  second  meeting 
with  her,  and  by  this  time  Lane  had  gone  out  to  join  the  regiment. 
I  didn't  even  have  a  chance  to  say  good -by  to  him.  Do  you  think, 
really,  that  he  was  smitten  in  that  quarter?" 

"  That's  what  I  certainly  heard,"  said  Withers ;  "  and  as  soon  as 
you  get  to  know  young  people  in  society,  I  venture  to  say  that  you 
can  readily  find  out  all  about  it.  These  girls  all  know  one  another's 
secrets,  and  are  generally  pretty  ready  to  tell  them.  That's  the  result 
of  my  experience." 

It  was  evident  that  Amos  Withers's  cousin  was  not  to  be  neglected 
in  the  Queen  City.  Two  parties  at  private  houses,  a  reception  at  the 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  51 

club,  and  three  dinners  were  the  invitations  which  he  found  awaiting 
him  at  his  office.  Half  an  hour  was  occupied  in  acknowledging  and 
accepting  or  declining,  as  happened  to  be  the  case,  these  evidences  of 
hospitality ;  then,  having  no  especial  interest  in  the  morning  paper,  his 
thoughts  again  reverted  to  what  Mr.  Withers  had  been  telling  him  about 
Miss  Vincent,  and  the  possible  relation  between  her  and  his  regimental 
comrade.  He  had  been  very  much  impressed  with  her  the  night  be 
fore.  Her  beauty  was  of  such  a  rare  and  radiant  character,  she  was 
so  genial  and  unaffected  in  her  manner,  so  bright  and  winning,  with 
such  an  evident  liking  for  his  society,  that  Mr.  Noel  had  come  away 
flattering  himself  that  he  had  made  in  this  quarter  a  most  favorable 
impression.  He  had  thought  of  her  very  much  as  he  went  home  from 
the  party, — of  her  interested  face,  as  he  talked  or  danced  with  her ; 
and  she  danced  delightfully,  and  was  so  good  as  to  say  that  his  step 
perfectly  suited  hers.  He  remembered  now,  too,  her  remark  that  it 
was  so  delightful  to  dance  with  army  officers,  and  graduates  of  the 
Point,  they  all  seemed  to  feel  so  thoroughly  at  home  on  the  floor. 

Noel  was  not  a  graduate  of  the  Point  by  any  means ;  but  he  saw 
no  reason  for  disenchanting  her  on  that  score.  He  was  quite  as  good 
as  any  of  the  West-Pointers,  in  his  own  opinion,  and  in  society  was 
very  much  more  at  home  than  many  of  their  number.  As  a  dancer  he 
was  looked  upon  in  his  regiment  and  throughout  the  cavalry  as  one  of 
the  most  accomplished  in  the  whole  service.  And  all  this  interest  and 
all  this  cordiality  he  had  accepted  without  hesitation  as  a  tribute  to  his 
own  superior  qualifications  and  attractiveness.  It  was  therefore  with  a 
feeling  akin  to  pique  that  he  heard  of  this  possible  engagement  exist 
ing  between  her  and  Captain  Lane. 

In  all  the  Eleventh  Cavalry  there  was  no  man  whom  Gordon  Noel 
feared  and  possibly  hated  more  than  he  did  Captain  Lane.  This  arose 
from  the  fact  that  Lane  as  adjutant  of  the  regiment  had  seen  all  the 
communications  that  passed  from  time  to  time  relative  to  Noel's  absence 
from  his  command  when  his  services  were  most  needed  and  when  any 
man  of  spirit  would  have  taken  every  possible  precaution  to  be  with 
it.  He  knew  how  silent  Lane  had  always  been,  and  how  thorough  a 
custodian  of  regimental  secrets  he  was  considered.  But  all  the  same 
the  mere  fact  that  Lane  knew  all  these  circumstances  so  much  to  his 
disadvantage,  and  had  seen  all  his  lame  and  impotent  excuses,  had  made 
him  fear  him  as  a  possible  enemy  and  hate  him  simply  because  he 
stood  in  awe  of  him. 


62  TWO  SOLDIELS. 

No  one,  to  watch  Noel  in  society  or  in  the  presence  of  his  brother 
officers,  would  suppose  for  a  moment  that  he  looked  upon  Lane  with 
other  than  feelings  of  the  warmest  regard  and  comradeship.  It  was 
only  in  his  secret  thoughts,  which  he  admitted  to  no  soul  on  earth,  that 
Noel  realized  what  his  real  feelings  were  towards  a  man  who  had  never 
done  him  a  wrong,  but  who  had  treated  him  on  all  occasions,  public  and 
private,  with  courtesy  and  consideration. 

For  some  reason  or  other  the  lieutenant  felt  restless  and  dissatisfied 
this  morning.  The  atmosphere  of  the  office  was  decidedly  uncongenial. 
He  was  a  man  who  rarely  read  anything,  and  to  whom  letter-writing 
was  a  bore.  To  be  sure,  he  had  little  of  it  to  do,  for  no  man  in  the 
regiment  had  expressed  a  desire  to  hear  from  him.  It  was  a  hot,  sultry 
day ;  the  stylish  white  flannel  suit  in  which  he  had  arrayed  his  hand 
some  self  was  wasting  its  elegance  on  the  desert  air  of  a  bare  and  empty 
room,  instead  of  being  seen  in  the  boudoirs  of  beauty  or  the  billiard- 
rooms  at  the  club.  Business  was  slack :  no  recruits  were  coming  in, 
and  Mr.  Noel  could  stand  it  no  longer.  A  ring  from  his  bell  summoned 
the  sergeant  to  the  room. 

"  There  doesn't  seem  to  be  any  likelihood  of  recruits  coming  in  such 
a  day  as  this,  sergeant,"  said  Mr.  Noel.  "  I'm  going  up  to  the  club  for 
a  while;  if  anybody  should  come  in,  send  one  of  the  men  up  there  for 
me ;  I'll  return  at  once."  And  with  that  he  took  his  straw  hat  and  light 
cane  and  strolled  leisurely  up  the  street.  His  was  a  figure  that  many  a 
man — and  more  women — would  turn  to  look  at  more  than  once.  Tall, 
slim,  elegant  in  build,  always  dressed  in  excellent  taste,  Gordon  Noel 
in  any  community  would  have  been  pronounced  a  remarkably  present 
able  man.  His  face,  as  has  been  said,  was  very  fine  ;  his  eyes  dark  and 
handsome,  shaded  by  deep,  thick  lashes ;  his  hair  dark  and  waving ; 
his  moustache,  dark  and  drooping,  served  only  to  enhance  the  brilliancy 
of  the  even  white  teeth  that  flashed  underneath  it  in  his  frequent  smiles 
and  joyous  laughter.  One  would  say,  in  looking  at  Noel,  that  he  was 
a  man  of  singularly  sunny  disposition  ;  and  so  he  was,  and  so  they  found 
him  at  the  club ;  and  so  the  loungers  there  hailed  him  with  jovial  shouts 
as  he  entered  ;  for,  though  only  a  fortnight  had  elapsed  since  his  arrival, 
and  four  days  of  that  time  he  had  been  absent,  giving  his  testimony 
before  the  court-martial  in  New  York  harbor,  he  had  nevertheless  won 
his  way  into  the  hearts  of  all  the  young  fellows  around  the  club,  and 
no  more  popular  man  than  Gordon  Noel  had  ever  come  within  the 
doors  of  "  The  Queen  City." 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  63 

"  What  are  you  going  to  have,  old  man  ?"  was  the  first  question 
asked,  and  Noel  laughingly  ordered  a  sherry-cobbler,  saying  the  day 
was  far  too  hot  for  anything  stronger. 

"  Who's  that  I  just  saw  going  into  the  billiard-room?"  he  asked. 

"That?  that's  Regy  Vincent.    Haven't  you  met  him  yet?" 

"  Regy  Vincent,"  said  Noel.  "  Is  he  the  brother  of  the  Miss  Vin 
cent  whom  I  met  at  the  party  last  night  ?" 

"  The  very  same,"  was  the  reply.  "  Mighty  bright  fellow,  too,  and 
a  very  jolly  one  ;  though  he  has  been  in  hard  luck  of  late." 

"  How  in  hard  luck  ?"  asked  a  quiet-looking  man  seated  in  a  big 
arm-chair,  lowering  for  a  moment  the  newspaper  which  he  had  been 
reading. 

"  Well,  through  his  father's  ill  luck  on  'Change.  You  all  know,  of 
course,  that  Vincent  was  nearly  busted  before  that  corner  went  under 
last  week." 

"  I  know  this,"  was  the  calm  reply,  "  that  while  he  did  stand  for  a 
few  days  on  the  '  ragged  edge,'  and  while  it  may  be  that  had  that  corner 
not  broken  when  it  did  he  would  have  been  in  sore  straits,  in  some  way 
he  or  nis  partner,  Clark,  came  to  taw  with  additional  funds,  and  had 
the  consummate  pluck  to  put  up  more  at  the  very  moment  when  it  was 
believed  that  that  syndicate  was  going  to  have  everything  their  own 
way.  So  far  from  being  badly  bitten  by  that  deal,  it's  my  belief  that 
Vincent,  Clark  &  Co.  came  out  of  it  with  a  very  pretty  penny  to  the 
good." 

"  Well,  of  course,  Harris,  you  must  know  more  about  it  than  I 
do.  But  you  cannot  be  gladder  than  I  am  to  hear  that  Vincent's 
status  is  so  much  better  than  we  supposed.  I'm  glad  on  his  account, 
I'm  glad  on  Regy's  account,  and  I'm  particularly  glad  on  Miss  Mabel's 
account.  And  now  I'm  particularly  chuckling  over  Billy  Rossiter's 
frame  of  mind  when  he  hears  the  real  truth  of  this  matter.  When  he 
went  after  her  to  Rome  last  year,  and  everybody  supposed  that  Vincent 
was  worth  a  million,  there's  no  doubt  in  the  world  that  he  did  his  best 
to  win  her,  and  that  was  what  he  was  sent  abroad  by  his  father  to  do. 
But  he  didn't  win  her  then,  for  she  strenuously  denied  any  engagement 
when  she  came  back  here ;  yet  it  was  supposed  that  if  he  persevered  his 
chances  would  be  good.  Why,  he's  not  half  a  bad  fellow,  only  he 
can't  marry  so  long  as  he  is  in  his  father's  employ  and  dependent  on 
him,  unless  he  marries  according  to  his  father's  wishes ;  and  the  old 
man  called  him  off  just  as  soon  as  he  found  out  that  Vincent  was  on 

5* 


54  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

the  verge  of  failure.  Billy  Rossiter  has  lost  any  chance  that  he  might 
have  had  in  that  quarter ;  for  she'll  never  look  at  him  again." 

"  Served  him  right,  if  that  be  the  case.  Any  man  who  hasn't 
sense  enough  to  stick  to  a  girl  who  is  bright  and  pretty  as  Mabel  Vin 
cent,  rich  or  poor,  deserves  no  luck  at  all  in  this  world.  But  that 
reminds  me,  Captain  Noel,  according  to  rumor  and  what  the  girls  say 
in  society, — and  you  know  they  generally  know  pretty  much  every 
thing  that  is  going  on, — there  is  something  more  than  a  mere  un 
derstanding  between  her  and  your  predecessor  here,  the  recruiting 
officer,  Lieutenant  Lane.  Did  he  say  anything  about  it  to  you  ?" 

"  No,  not  a  word.  I  think,  though,  that  had  there  been  anything 
in  the  story  Lane  would  have  let  me  know  something  about  it,  for  we 
are  very  old  and  intimate  friends.  Did  you  say  that  that  was  Mr. 
Reginald  Vincent  who  has  just  gone  into  the  billiard-room  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mr.  Morris,  "  that's  he.  Would  you  like  to 
know  him?" 

u  Very  much  indeed  ;  and  if  you've  nothing  better  to  do,  come  in 
and  present  me.  Perhaps  he  will  want  to  play  a  game  of  billiards, 
and  if  so  I'm  his  man." 

And  so  it  happened  that,  that  very  morning,  Gordon  Noel  was 
presented  to  Reginald  Vincent,  and  when  Regy  went  home  to  luncheon 
he  spoke  enthusiastically  of  his  new-found  acquaintance,  whom  he 
pronounced  to  be  one  of  the  most  delightful  fellows  he  had  ever  met 
anywhere,  and  who  was  such  a  warm  and  devoted  friend  of  Captain 
Lane.  "I  want,  if  I  meet  him  this  afternoon,  as  I  probably  shall,  to 
bring  him  back  to  dinner  with  me.  What  say  you,  mother? — just 
informally." 

"  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  better  to  wait  a  day  or  two,  and 
have  a  little  dinner,  and  invite  a  few  friends  to  meet  him  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Vincent.  "  Your  father,  perhaps,  would  like  to  be  consulted  in  the 
matter.  I've  no  doubt  that  he  would  like  to  do  something  to  show 
attention  to  any  friend  of  Captain  Lane's.  What  do  you  think, 
Mabel  ?" 

"  I  vote  for  both,"  replied  that  young  woman,  with  much  alacrity. 
"  I  have  met  Mr.  Noel  twice." 

"  Captain  Noel,  dear,"  said  Regy ;  "  Captain  Noel." 

"  He  is  not  a  captain  yet,  Reginald :  I  happen  to  know  from  the 
regimental  roster:  I  have  a  copy  up-stairs,  that  Captain  Lane  very 
kindly  left  me."  And  here  a  decided  blush  stole  up  the  fair  cheeks  of 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  55 

the  young  lady.  "I  learned  a  good  deal  about  the  officers  of  the 
regiment  from  Mr.  Lane — Captain  Lane — while  he  was  here.  Mr. 
Noel  ranks  second  among  the  lieutenants  of  the  regiment.  As  Cap 
tain  Lane  said,  he  is  so  very  near  his  captaincy  that  perhaps  he  ac 
cepts  the  title  that  you  all  give  him  at  the  club  as  only  a  trifle  prema 
ture." 

"  Well,  captain  or  lieutenant,  it  doesn't  make  any  difference,"  said 
Regy,  impulsively :  "  he's  a  mighty  good  fellow,  and  a  mighty  good 
friend  of  your  friend  Captain  Lane,  and  if  you  have  no  objection, 
mother,  I'll  bring  him  around  to  dinner  to-night,  and  then  perhaps 
we  might  go  to  the  theatre  afterwards.  I'm  very  sure  that  Captain 
Noel  will  enjoy  it.  Fact  is,  he  enjoys  everything.  Everybody  in  the 
club  is  perfectly  delighted  with  him.  You  ought  to  hear  him  sing  an 
Irish  song  or  tell  a  French  story  !  I'll  try  and  get  him  started  when 
he  comes  here.  He's  a  wonderful  mimic;  and  he's  so  full  of  informa 
tion  about  their  service  on  the  frontier.  Now,  Lane  so  seldom  spoke 
of  anything  of  the  kind ;  but  Noel  will  talk  for  hours  at  a  time  about 
the  wonderful  country  through  which  they  have  scouted  and  fought, 
and  all  that  they  have  been  through  in  their  campaigns.  By  Jove ! 
but  that  fellow  has  seen  a  lot  of  hard  service^  and  has  been  through 
some  hair-breadth  escapes !" 

"  Who  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Vincent ;  "  Captain  Lane  or  Mr.  Noel  ?" 

"  Noel,  of  course, — Noel  I'm  speaking  of.  Lane,  no  doubt,  saw  a 
great  deal  of  service  with  the  regiment ;  but  Noel  says  that  he  was 
adjutant  so  much  of  the  time,  and  on  other  staff-duty,  while  he  (Noel) 
was  almost  incessantly  scouting,  hunting  after  various  Indian  parties, 
and  being  on  the  war-path,  as  he  laughingly  expresses  it." 

"  Does  he  mean  that  Captain  Lane  didn't  see  much  actual  service 
there  ?"  asked  Miss  Mabel,  with  heightened  color. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  that  he  means  that.  Don't  understand  me  as 
saying  for  a  moment  that  Noel  disparages  Lane's  services ;  on  the  con 
trary,  he  never  speaks  of  him  except  with  the  most  enthusiastic  regard. 
Neither  does  he  boast  at  all  of  his  own  service ;  only  you  can't  help 
seeing,  in  the  modest,  off-hand  way  in  which  he  speaks  of  his  cam 
paigning,  what  a  deal  of  hardship  and  danger  he  has  encountered  for 
the  simple  reason  that  he  was  with  the  command  that  had  to  go  through 
it  all." 

"  Your  father  tells  me,"  said  Mrs.  Vincent,  "  that  he  met  him  one 
day  on  'Change  when  Mr.  Withers  brought  him  in ;  that  was  before 


56  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

the  crash,  and  when  he  had  no  time  to  pay  him  any  attention.  Of 
course  the  cousin  of  Mr.  Amos  Withers  was  received  with  a  great  deal 
of  bowing  and  scraping  by  Mr.  Withers's  friends  in  that  honorable 
body.  But  all  the  same  I  know  your  father  will  be  glad  to  meet  Mr. 
Noel  now  ;  and  by  all  means  bring  him,  if  you  feel  disposed,  to-night. 
What  manner  of  looking  man  is  he?" 

"  A  remarkably  handsome  man,  mother,"  said  Mabel,  at  once, — 
"  one  of  the  handsomest  I  ever  saw ;  and  he  certainly  made  himself 
very  entertaining  and  very  jolly  the  night  we  sat  together  at  dinner  at 
the  Thorntons'." 

"  There's  a  great  contrast  physically  between  him  and  Lane,"  put 
in  Regy.  "  Noel  is  such  an  elegantly  built  fellow, — so  tall  and  fine- 
looking.  Lane  would  be  almost  undersized  when  standing  beside 
him,  and  is  very  much  at  a  disadvantage  when  they  appear  together,  I 
should  judge." 

A  very  bright  and  joyous  party  it  was,  seated  around  the  home 
like  table  of  the  Vincents  that  evening,  and,  as  Regy  had  predicted, 
Noel  proved  very  entertaining  and  a  most  agreeable  guest.  While 
showing  much  deference  to  Mr.  Vincent  and  attention  to  his  good 
wife,  he  nevertheless  managed  to  have  a  great  deal  to  say  about 
the  regiment  and  its  daring  and  perilous  service  on  the  frontier,  and 
to  throw  in  here  and  there  many  a  pleasant  word  about  Captain 
Lane  and  their  long  and  intimate  acquaintance,  and  before  dinner  was 
over  had  won  a  warm  place  in  Mabel  Vincent's  heart  by  the  way  in 
which  he  so  frequently  spoke  of  the  man  to  whom  she  had  plighted 
her  troth. 

And  that  very  evening,  as  Frederick  Lane, — far  out  under  the 
star-lit  sky  of  Arizona, — with  his  heart  full  of  longing  and  love  for 
her,  and  thinking  only  of  her  as  he  rode  over  the  desolate  plain  with 
the  lights  of  old  Fort  Graham  already  in  view,  Mabel  Vincent,  seated 
by  Gordon  Noel's  side,  was  looking  up  into  his  handsome  face  and 
listening  to  his  animated  voice  between  the  acts  of  "  Twelfth  Night." 

IX. 

Only  a  short  distance  from  the  Arizona  border,  with  the  blue  range 
of  the  Santa  Catarina  shutting  out  the  sunset  skies,  with  sand  and 
cactus  and  Spanish  bayonet  on  every  side,  the  old  post  of  Fort  Graham 
stood  in  the  desert  like  a  mud-colored  oasis.  All  the  quarters,  all  the 


TWO  SOLD1EES.  57 

store-houses,  stables,  corrals,  and  barracks,  were  built  of  the  native 
adobe;  and  though  whitewash  had  been  liberally  applied,  especially 
about  the  homes  of  the  officers,  and  the  long  Venetian  blinds  at  their 
front  windows  had  been  painted  the  coolest  of  deep  greens,  and  clear 
running  water  sparkled  through  the  acequias  that  bordered  the  parade, 
it  could  not  be  denied  that  at  its  best  Graham  was  an  arid  and  forbid 
ding  station,  so  far  as  one  could  judge  by  appearances.  Trees,  verdure, 
turf,  were  items  almost  unknown  within  a  day's  march  of  the  flag-staff; 
but  in  the  old  times  when  the  Navajoes  were  the  terror  of  the  wide 
Southwest  and  even  the  Comanches  sometimes  carried  their  raids  across 
the  Rio  Bravo  del  Norte — the  Rio  Grande  of  to-day — the  post  had 
been  "  located"  where  it  might  afford  protection  to  the  "  Forty-Niners" 
and  to  the  pioneers  of  the  prairies ;  the  trans-continental  trail  led  past 
its  very  gates,  and  many  a  time  and  oft  the  miner  and  the  emigrant 
thanked  God  and  the  general  government  that  the  old  fort  was  placed 
just  where  it  was,  for  Indian  pursuers  drew  rein  when  once  in  sight 
of  its  dingy  walls ;  and  so  from  year  to  year  for  more  than  thrice  a 
decade  the  flag  was  raised  at  sunrise,  the  post  was  always  garrisoned ; 
and  now/  with  the  Southern  Pacific  piercing  the  range  but  a  short  dis 
tance  below,  and  landing  stores  and  forage  at  the  quartermaster's  de"p6t 
within  four  miles  of  the  corrals,  it  became  easier  to  maintain  a  force 
of  cavalry  at  Graham ;  and  one  of  the  troops  there  stationed  was  Lane's 
new  command,  the  relict  of  the  late  lamented  Curran,  "  the  Devil's 
own  D." 

An  easy-going  old  dragoon  was  Curran,  and  for  years  before  his 
retirement  it  was  an  open  secret  that  his  first  sergeant  "  ran  the  troop" 
to  suit  himself  and  that  the  captain  never  permitted  his  subalterns 
to  interfere.  A  more  independent,  devil-may-care,  and  occasionally 
drunken  lot  of  troopers  were  rarely  gathered  in  one  such  organization, 
and,  while  steady  and  reliable  men  on  getting  their  discharges  at  the 
end  of  their  term  of  enlistment  would  refuse  to  "  take  on"  again  in  D 
Troop,  but  would  go  over  to  Captain  Breese  or  perhaps  to  a  company 
at  another  station,  all  the  scamps  and  rollicking  characters  in  the  regi 
ment  would  drift  over  into  "  D"  and  be  welcomed  by  the  choice  spirits 
therein  assembled.  And  this  was  the  gang  that  Captain  Lane  was  now 
expected  to  bring  up  with  a  round  turn  and  transform  into  dutiful 
soldiers.  Obedient  to  the  colonel's  behest,  he  had  stopped  over  a 
couple  of  days  at  head -quarters,  had  had  a  most  cordial  greeting  from 
every  officer  at  the  post,  had  called  on  all  the  ladies, — not  omitting  his 
C* 


58  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

fair  defamers, — and  then  had  hastened  on  to  Graham  and  his  new  and 
trying  duties.  Every  day,  as  he  was  whirled  farther  away  from  the 
home  of  her  whom  he  so  devotedly  loved,  he  wrote  long  letters  to  her, 
filled  with — only  lovers  know  what  all.  And  his  heart  leaped  with 
joy  that  topmost  in  the  little  packet  of  letters  awaiting  him  at  the 
adjutant's  office  when  he  reached  his  post  was  a  dainty  billet  addressed 
to  him  in  her  beloved  hand.  Until  he  could  get  his  quarters  in  habi 
table  condition  the  new  troop-commander  was  the  guest  of  Captain  and 
Mrs.  Nash ;  and  he  could  hardly  wait  for  the  close  of  that  amiable 
woman's  welcoming  address  to  reach  his  room  and  devour  every  word 
of  that  most  precious  missive.  She  had  written — bless  her  ! — the  very 
day  after  he  left,  and  a  sweet,  womanly  letter  it  was, — so  shy  and  half 
timid,  yet  so  full  of  faith  and  pride  in  him.  Every  one  at  Graham 
remarked  on  the  wonderful  change  for  the  better  that  had  come  over 
Lane  since  he  went  East.  Never  had  they  seen  him  so  joyous,  so 
blithe  in  manner.  He  seemed  to  walk  on  air  ;  his  eyes  beamed  on 
every  one ;  his  face  seemed  "  almost  to  have  a  halo  round  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Nash,  and  neither  she  nor  any  woman  in  garrison  had  the  faintest  doubt 
as  to  the  explanation  of  it  all.  Love  had  wrought  the  change,  and 
being  loved  had  intensified  and  prolonged  it.  Every  man — every 
woman  in  garrison  was  his  friend,  and  the  happy  fellow  would  gladly 
have  taken  dozens  of  them  into  his  confidence  and  told  them  all  about 
>t,  and  talked  by  the  hour  of  her. 

But  there  were  reasons,  Mrs.  Vincent  had  said,  why  it  was  most 
desirable  that  there  should  be  no  announcement  of  the  engagement  as 
vet.  What  these  were  she  did  not  explain  to  Mabel  herself,  but  assured 
her  that  it  was  her  father's  wish  as  well.  Lane  had  rushed  to  the  great 
jewelry-house  of  Van  Loo  &  Laing,  and  the  diamond  solitaire  that 
flashed  among  the  leaves  of  the  exquisite  rose-bud  he  smilingly  handed 
her  that  night  was  one  to  make  any  woman  gasp  with  delight.  Could 
anything  on  earth  be  rich  enough,  pure  enough,  fair  enough,  to  lavish 
on  her,  his  peerless  queen  ? 

She  had  held  forth  her  soft  white  hand  and  let  him  slip  it  on  the 
engagement  finger  and  then  bend  the  knee  like  knight  of  old  and  kiss 
it  fervently.  She  revelled  in  it,  rejoiced  in  it,  but,  heeding  her  mother's 
advice,  stowed  it  away  where  none  could  see  it,  in  the  secret  drawer  of 
her  desk,  and  Lane  was  perfectly  satisfied.  "  I  will  tell  you  the  reason 
some  day,"  Mrs.  Vincent  had  said  to  him,  "  but  not  just  now,  for  I 
might  be  doing  wrong ;"  and  he  had  protested  that  she  need  never  tell 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  59 

him.  What  cared  he,  so  long  as  Mabel's  love  was  his,  and  they  under 
stood  each  other  as  they  did  ? 

And  so,  while  people  at  Graham  plied  him  with  questions  and 
insinuations  and  side-remarks  about  the  "  girl  he  left  behind  him"  in 
the  East,  he  kept  faithfully  to  the  agreement,  and  though  all  the  gar 
rison  knew  he  wrote  to  her  every  day  and  took  long  rides  alone  that 
he  might  think  of  her,  doubtless,  and  though  every  one  knew  that 
those  dainty  missives  that  came  so  often  for  Captain  Lane  were  written 
by  Miss  Mabel  Vincent,  never  once  did  he  admit  the  existence  of  an 
engagement, — never  once  until  long  afterwards. 

The  first  real  tidings  that  the  Graham  people  had  of  her  came  in  a 
letter  from  head-quarters.  Mrs.  Riggs  had  had  such  a  long,  charming 
letter  from  Mr.  Noel  that  she  called  in  several  of  her  cronies  and  read 
it  all  to  them  ;  and  that  very  evening  one  of  the  number,  unable  to 
bear  the  burden  of  so  much  information,  shifted  it  from  her  mental 
shoulders  by  writing  it  all  to  Mrs.  Nash.  Perhaps  the  best  plan  will 
be  to  read  the  extract  which  referred  to  Lane  exactly  as  Mr.  Noel 

wrote  it : 
* 

"  By  this  time  I  presume  Fred  Lane  is  busily  engaged  with  his  new 
troop.  I  served  with  them  in  the  Sioux  campaign,  and  they  never  gave 
me  any  trouble  at  all.  So,  too,  in  the  Geronimo  chase  a  while  ago, 
when  Major  Brace  picked  me  out  to  go  ahead  by  night  from  Carrizo's 
I  asked  fora  detachment  from  D  Troop,  and  the  men  seemed  to  appre 
ciate  it.  I  knew  they  would  follow  wherever  I  would  lead,  and  would 
stand  by  me  through  thick  and  thin.  If  Lane  starts  in  right  I've  no 
doubt  they  will  do  just  as  well  for  him  ;  but  I  expect  he  is  feeling 
mighty  blue  at  having  to  rejoin  just  now.  You  know  I've  always 
been  a  warm  friend  of  his,  and  it  hurt  me  to  see  him  so  unwilling  to 
go  back.  No  one  seemed  to  know  him  very  well  in  society ;  and  it's 
very  queer,  for  this  was  his  old  home, — and  I  was  never  more  delight 
fully  welcomed  anywhere ;  the  people  are  charming.  But  Lane  had 
held  himself  aloof  a  good  deal,  and  fellows  at  the  club  say  he  didn't 
*  run  with  the  right  set.'  Then,  if  all  accounts  be  true,  he  had  had 
hard  luck  in  several  ways.  I'm  told  that  he  lost  money  in  a  big  wheat 
speculation,  and  everybody  says  he  totally  lost  his  heart.  I  tell  you 
this  in  confidence  because  I  know  you  are  a  devoted  friend  of  his, — as 
indeed  you  are  of  all  in  the  dear  old  regiment, — but  he  was  much 
embarrassed  when  it  came  to  turning  over  the  funds.  There  was  quite 


60  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

a  heavy  shortage,  which  he  had  to  make  up  at  a  time  when  it  was 
probably  most  inconvenient.  As  to  the  other  loss,  it  isn't  to  be  won 
dered  at.  She  is  a  beautiful  and  most  charming  girl,  and  many  a  man. 
I  fancy,  has  laid  his  heart  at  her  feet.  It  is  said,  however,  that  Lane's 
loss  is  the  heavier  in  this  case  because — well,  I  fear  it  will  come  to 
nothing.  A  young  lady  told  me  yesterday  that  there  was  something 
back  of  it  all, — that  she,  Miss  Vincent,  was  deeply  in  love  with  a  Mr. 
Rossiter,  of  New  York,  and  had  been  for  over  a  year,  and  they  were 
to  have  been  married  this  coming  September,  but  that  the  gentleman  (?) 
learned  that  her  father  had  been  nearly  swamped  in  speculation  and 
had  not  a  penny  to  give  her.  My  informant  went  to  school  with  Miss 
Vincent,  and  knows  her  intimately,  and  she  says  that  Mr.  Rossiter 
simply  threw  her  over  a  short  time  ago,  and  that  it  was  pique  and 
exasperation  and  to  hide  her  heart-break  from  the  world  that  Mabel 
Vincent  began  to  show  such  pleasure  in  Lane's  devotions.  She  led  him 
on,  so  her  lady  friends  say  ;  and  now  Mr.  Rossiter  has  found  out  that 
old  Vincent  was  sharper  and  shrewder  than  any  one  supposed  and 
made  instead  of  losing  a  pile,  and  now  he  is  suing  to  be  taken  back, 
and  they  say  that  she  is  so  much  in  love  with  the  fellow  that  the 
chances  are  all  in  his  favor.  This  is  why  I  feel  such  sorrow  and 
anxiety  for  Lane. 

"  "Well,  I  led  the  german  at  a  lovely  party  at  the  Prendergasts'  last 
night.  Miss  Vincent  was  there,  looking  like  a  peach -blossom,  and  we 
danced  together  a  great  deal.  When  it  came  time  to  break  up  I  believe 
half  the  people  in  the  rooms  came  to  say  good-night  to  me  and  to  tell 
me  they  had  never  seen  so  delightful  a  german, — '  everything  so 
depends  on  the  leader.'  I  have  invitations  for  something  or  other  for 
every  night  for  the  next  fortnight ;  and  yet  I  so  often  long  for  the  old 
regiment  and  the  true  friends  I  had  to  leave.  It  did  me  a  world  of 
good  last  night  to  meet  old  Colonel  Gray,  of  the  retired  list,  whose 
home  is  here,  but  he  commanded  the  — th  Infantry  in  the  Sioux  cam 
paign,  and  when  he  saw  me  he  threw  his  arms  around  my  neck  and 
hugged  me  before  the  whole  throng  of  people.  Give  my  love  to  our 
chief,  always,  and  believ3  me,  dear,  true  friend  of  mine, 

"  Yours  most  affectionately, 

"  GORDON  NOEL." 

Condensed,  edited  by  feminine  hands,  and  accented  here  and  there 
as  suited  the  writer's  mood,  this  was  the  letter  which  formed  the  basis 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  61 

of  the  one  received  by  Mrs.  Nash.  Lane  by  this  time  was  cosily  en 
sconced  in  his  quarters,  and  was  giving  all  his  time  to  the  improvement 
of  affairs  about  his  troop's  barracks,  kitchens,  and  stables,  to  drill-  and 
target-practice,  and  to  company  duties  generally.  His  days  knew  no 
relaxation  from  labor  from  reveille  until  "  retreat"  at  sunset,  and  then 
came  the  delicious  evenings  in  which  he  could  write  to  her  and  read  a 
chapter  or  two  of  some  favorite  work  before  going  early  to  bed.  After 
the  first  week  he  seldom  left  his  house  after  eight  o'clock,  and  the  gar 
rison  had  therefore  ample  opportunity  to  discuss  his  affairs.  Some 
color  was  lent  to  the  story  of  his  having  lost  money  in  speculation 
by  a  letter  received  from  Cheyenne  written  to  the  new  major  of  the 

th  Infantry,  who  had  recently  joined  by  promotion  from  Fort 

Russell,  near  that  thriving  town.  The  writer  said  that  Lane  of  the 
Eleventh  Cavalry  had  sold  his  property  there  for  fifteen  thousand 
dollars  about  the  end  of  June,  and  he  had  bought  it  for  twenty-five 
hundred  only  nine  years  before.  He  could  have  got  eighteen  thousand 
just  as  well  by  waiting  a  few  days ;  but  he  wanted  the  money  at  once. 

No  one,  of  course,  could  ask  the  captain  any  direct  questions  about 
his  affafrs  of  either  heart  or  pocket,  but  Lane  was  puzzled  to  account 
for  some  of  the  remarks  that  were  made  to  him, — the  interrogato 
ries  about  the  methods  of  speculation,  the  tentatives  as  to  chances  of 
"  making  a  good  thing"  in  that  way,  and  the  sharp  and  scrutinizing 
glances  that  accompanied  the  queries.  The  sweet,  sympathetic,  semi-con 
fidential  manner,  the  inviting  way  in  which  the  ladies  spoke  to  him  of 
his  present  loneliness  and  their  hopes  that  soon  he  would  bring  to  them 
a  charming  wife  to  share  their  exile  and  bless  his  army  home, — all  this, 
too,  seemed  odd  to  him ;  but,  as  he  had  never  been  in  love  nor  engaged 
before,  he  did  not  know  but  that  it  was  "  always  the  way  with  them," 
and  so  let  it  pass. 

And  then  he  was  very  happy  in  her  letters.  They  were  neither  as  fre 
quent  nor  as  long  as  his,  but  then  she  had  such  a  round  of  social  duties ; 
she  was  in  such  constant  demand ;  there  were  visitors  or  parties  every 
night,  and  endless  calls  and  shopping- tours  with  mother  every  day,  and 
she  was  really  getting  a  little  run  down.  The  weather  was  oppressively 
warm,  and  they  longed  to  get  away  from  the  city  and  go  to  the  moun 
tains.  It  was  only  a  day's  ride  to  the  lovely  resorts  in  the  Alleghanies, 
but  papa  was  looking  a  little  thin  and  worn  again,  and  the  doctors  had 
said  his  heart  was  affected, — not  alarmingly  or  seriously,  but  mamma 
could  not  bear  to  leave  him,  and  he  declared  it  utterly  impossible  to  be 

6 


62  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

away  from  his  business  a  single  day.  He  and  Mr.  Clark  were  very 
hopeful  over  a  new  venture  they  had  made,  the  nature  of  which  she  did 
not  thoroughly  understand. 

But  let  us  take  a  peep  at  some  of  those  early  letters, — not  at  the 
answers  to  his  eager  questions,  not  at  the  shy  words  of  maiden  love 
that  crept  in  here  and  there,  but  at  those  pages  any  one  might  read. 

"  Tuesday  night. 

"...  Such  a  delightful  german  as  we  had  last  night  at  the  Pren- 
dergasts'  I  Captain  Noel  led — I  have  to  call  him  captain,  for  every  one 
does  here,  and  if  I  say  '  Mr.'  they  want  to  know  why,  and  it  is  embar 
rassing  to  explain  how  I  know.  He  leads  remarkably  well,  and  I  was 
very  proud  of  l  our  regiment,'  sir,  when  listening  to  all  the  nice  things 
said  about  him.  How  I  wished  for  a  certain  other  cavalry  captain, 
now  so  many  cruel  miles  away !  Mr.  Noel  took  me  out  often, — and 
indeed  I  was  a  decided  belle, — and  he  told  me  that  he  had  to  lead  with 
Miss  Prendergast,  but  would  so  much  rather  dance  with  me. 

"  It  is  almost  settled  that  we  go  away  in  August  for  the  entire 
month.  Dr.  Post  says  mother  must  go,  and  that  father  ought  to  go. 
Of  course  I  go  with  mamma.  Deer  Park  will  doubtless  be  the  favored 
spot  I  wish  August  were  here ;  I  wish  you  were  here ;  I  wish — oh, 
so  many  things  !  Your  letters  are  such  a  delight  to  me.  I  wonder  if 
other  girls  have  anything  like  them.  Yes,  you  shall  have  the  picture 
on  my  birthday ;  but  mind,  sir,  you  are  to  take  the  utmost  care  of  it, 
or  the  original  will  feel  neglected." 

"  Friday  night. 

"...  So  many  interruptions  to-day,  dear  Fred  !  You  see  what  an 
incoherent  thing  this  is  thus  far,  and  now  I'm  tired  out.  We  had  a 
charming  time  at  the  Woodrows'  dinner  last  evening.  The  day  had 
been  hot,  but  their  table  was  set  on  the  lawn  under  a  canopy,  and,  the 
walls  being  raised,  we  had  a  delightful  breeze  from  the  river.  Their 
place  is  one  of  the  finest  on  the  heights.  I  did  so  wish  you  could  have 
seen  it.  Captain  Noel  took  me  in,  and  was  so  bright  and  jolly  and 
full  of  anecdote.  Everybody  likes  him,  and  I  like  him  mainly  be 
cause  he  is  such  a  loyal  friend  of  yours.  He  talks  so  much  of  you 
and  of  all  the  dangers  you  have  shared  in  common ;  and  you  know 
how  interesting  all  this  must  be  to  me.  Sometimes  I  wonder  that  you 
had  so  little  to  say  about  him, — though  you  never  did  talk  much  about 
the  regiment  and  never  would  talk  much  about  yourself.  Wednesday 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  63 

evening  we  had  a  little  theatre-party.  Regy  got  it  up,  and  we  just 
filled  two  adjoining  loges.  Captain  Noel  was  Fanny  Holton's  escort, 
but  he  talked  most  of  the  time  with  me, — a  thing  that  my  escort,  Mr. 
Forbes,  did  not  seem  to  like ;  but,  as  he  couldn't  talk,  and  Mr.  Noel 
would,  what  could  I  do  ?" 

"Sunday  evening. 

"  It  is  late,  and  I  ought  to  be  asleep,  but  the  last  caller  has  just 
gone,  and  to-morrow  there  may  be  no  time  to  write  at  all,  and  you  are 

such  an  exacting,  tyrannical,  dear  old  boy  that Well,  there,  now,  let 

me  tell  you  of  the  day.  You  say  anything  and  everything  that  I  say 
or  do  is  of  interest.  So,  to  begin  with,  yesterday  I  had  a  headache,  due, 
I  fear,  to  the  late  supper  Regy  gave  us  at  the  club  after  the  theatre. 
Fanny  Holton  came  to  take  me  for  a  drive,  but  I  did  not  feel  like 
going,  and  begged  off.  Then  she  told  me  that  Captain  Noel  was  in 
the  carriage  waiting,  and  that  he  would  be  so  disappointed.  Mother 
came  in  and  said  the  air  would  do  me  good ;  and  so  \ve  went,  and  I 
came  back  feeling  so  much  brighter.  Mr.  Noel  was  very  amusing,  and 
kept  us,  laughing  all  the  time.  Coming  home,  Fanny  got  out  at  her 
house,  as  she  had  to  dress  for  dinner,  but  told  the  coachman  to  drive 
me  home  and  Mr.  Noel  to  the  club.  He  began  talking  of  you  the 
moment  she  disappeared,  and  said  he  so  hoped  you  were  going  to  write 
regularly  to  him.  Are  you?  He  seems  so  fond  of  you;  but  I  do 
not  wonder  at  that. 

"  This  morning  we  went  to  church,  and  afterwards  Mr.  Noel  joined 
and  walked  home  with  us,  and  papa  begged  him  to  come  in  to  luncheon, 
which  he  did.  You  dear  fellow !  what  have  you  done  to  my  beloved 
old  daddy,  that  he  is  so  ardent  an  admirer  of  yours  ?  He  shook  Mr. 
Noel's  hand  three  times  before  he  would  let  him  go,  and  begged  him 
to  come  often  :  he  liked  to  know  men,  he  said,  who  could  so  thoroughly 
appreciate — whom  do  you  think,  sir  ? — Captain  Fred  Lane.  After  he 
had  gone,  papa  spoke  of  him  delightedly  on  two  or  three  occasions. 
Will  they  take  him  away  too  as  soon  as  he  is  really  a  captain  ?" 

"  Wednesday. 

"  You  dear,  dear,  extravagant  fellow  !  Never  have  I  had  such  ex 
quisite  flowers,  or  such  profusion  of  them.  You  must  have  given  your 
florist  carte  blanche.  Nothing  that  came  to  me  compared  with  them. 
My  birthday  was  the  cause  of  quite  a  little  fete  in  the  family,  and  I 
had  some  lovely  presents.  Mr.  Noel,  too,  sent  a  beautiful  basket  of 


64  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

roses,  and  it  pleased  me  very  much.  I  want  your  comrades  to  like  me, 
and  yet  I  know  he  did  this  on  your  account.  Though  he  is  so  thought 
ful  and  delicate  and  never  refers  to  our  engagement,  I  feel  that  he 
knows  it ;  and  it  seems  better  that  way,  somehow. 

"  You  did  not  answer  my  questions  about  him,  Fred.  Didn't  you 
read  my  letter  ?" 

Among  the  letters  that  came  from  the  Queen  City  was  one 
which  bore  the  tremulous  superscription  of  the  head  of  the  firm  of 
Vincent,  Clark  &  Co.  It  was  brief,  but  it  gave  Captain  Lane  a  thrill 
of  gladness : 

"  It  was  your  timely  and  thoughtful  aid  that  enabled  us  to  recover 
so  much  of  our  losses.  You  alone  came  to  our  rescue,  and  I  fully 
appreciate  the  risk  you  ran.  It  will  never  be  forgotten. 

"  Clark  will  send  draft  for  the  entire  am't,  or  deposit  to  your 
credit,  as  you  may  direct.  I  go  to  New  York  and  Chicago  in  two  or 
three  days.  Our  prospects  are  flattering." 


August  was  close  at  hand.  Queen  City  "  society"  had  scattered  in 
every  direction.  The  mountains  and  the  sea-shore  were  levying  tribute 
on  the  plethoric  pockets  of  the  "  big  men"  on  'Change  and  in  business 
of  every  conceivable  kind.  Blinds  and  shutters  were  closed  at  scores 
of  hospitable  mansions  in  the  narrow  streets  of  the  old  city  and  even 
in  the  elegant  villas  that  crowned  the  surrounding  heights.  The  sun- 
glare  at  mid-day  was  so  intense  that  no  man  was  safe  in  venturing  forth 
wilhout  a  huge  sunshade  of  some  kind,  and  even  within  the  sacred 
precincts  of  the  club,  where  broad  awnings  hung  on  every  side  and 
palm-leaf  fans  were  in  constant  motion,  the  men  strolled  in  to  luncheon 
in  shirts  of  lightest  flannel  or  pongee,  with  rolling  collars  and  infini 
tesimal  neckties.  Every  one  who  could  leave  town  had  long  since 
gone;  and  yet  the  Vincents  lingered.  Each  day  seemed  to  add  to 
the  anxiety  in  the  mother's  eyes  as  she  watched  her  husband's  aging 
face.  He  had  returned  from  a  business-trip  of  ten  days  or  so  looking 
hopeful  and  buoyant,  and  had  gone  to  the  office  the  following  morning 
with  light  step  and  cheery  demeanor,  but  came  home  long  after  the 
dinner-hour  listless  and  dispirited, — a  severe  headache,  he  said,  but  the 
wife  knew  that  it  was  far  more  than  head-  or  heartache.  The  family 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  65 

physician  took  occasion  to  warn  Mr.  Vincent  that  he  was  doing  him 
self  grievous  wrong, — that  his  health  imperatively  demanded  rest  and 
change  of  scene.  Vincent  looked  in  the  good  old  doctor's  face  with  a 
world  of  dumb  misery  in  his  eyes,  and  only  answered,  "  I  will, — I 
will, — in  a  week  or  so.  I  cannot  quit  my  post  just  now.  Clark  is 
taking  his  vacation.  When  he  returns  I'll  go."  And  until  he  could 
accompany  them  Mrs.  Vincent  refused  to  budge ;  and  yet  she  began  to 
urge  that  Mabel  should  start  now.  What  was  to  prevent  her  going  at 
once  and  joining  the  Woodrows  at  Deer  Park  ?  Clarissa  and  Eleanor 
Woodrow  were  always  such  friends  of  hers.  But  Mabel  begged  that 
she  might  stay  until  both  papa  and  mamma  could  go  too ;  she  could 
not  be  content  there  without  them,  or  at  least  without  mother ;  and 
Mrs.  Vincent  could  not  find  the  words  in  which  to  frame  the  cause  of 
her  greatest  apprehension. 

The  one  man  whom  the  heat  was  powerless  to  subdue  was  Gordon 
Noel.  In  the  most  immaculate  and  becoming  costumes  of  white  or 
straw  color,  that  genial  officer  would  saunter  into  the  club  at  noontide, 
looking  ^provokingly  cool  and  comfortable,  and,  as  he  expressed  it, 
"  without  having  turned  a  hair." 

"  Hot !"  he  would  say.  "  Call  this  hot  ?  Why,  bless  your  hearts, 
fellows,  you  ought  to  live  in  Arizona  awhile !  Gad !  I've  come  in 
sometimes  from  a  scout  through  the  Gila  desert  and  rushed  for  cold 
cream  to  plaster  on  my  nose  and  cheeks :  it  would  be  all  melted,  of 
course ;  but  when  I  clapped  it  on  it  would  sizzle  just  like  so  much 
lard  in  a  frying-pan.  And  down  at  Fort  Yuma  our  hens  laid  hard- 
boiled  eggs  from  June  to  October."  And  then  his  eyes  would  twinkle 
with  fun,  and  he  would  bury  his  dark  moustache  in  the  cracked  ice  of 
his  julep  with  infinite  relish. 

"I  say,"  queried  Mr.  Morris  of  his  chum,  Terry  junior,  one  lan 
guid  afternoon  after  Noel  had  jauntily  strolled  away,  "  don't  you  envy 
a  feller  who  can  enjoy  life  like  that  ?" 

"  Never  saw  anything  like  it !"  quoth  the  younger.  "  One  would 
suppose  that  after  being  a  slave  all  mawning  in  those  beastly  works 
I  ought  to  enjoy  a  little  recreation ;  but  I  can't,  you  know." 

"  Queer  ducks,  those  army  fellers.  Gad  !  this  love-making  by 
proxy  is  what  gets  me, — this  sort  of  Miles  Standish  courtship  business. 
She's  prettier,  though,  than  the  original  Priscilla." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?"  queried  young  Terry,  vaguely.  He  had 
been  brought  up  under  the  thumb  of  his  elder  brother,  and,  from  the 


66  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

outset,  had  been  given  to  understand  that  if  he  expected  to  share  in  the 
profits  he  must  learn  the  business.  There  had  been  no  college  for  him, 
and  New  England  legends  were  sealed  books. 

"  Why,  I  mean  that  'twouldn't  surprise  me  a  bit  if  we  had  a  mod 
ern  version  of  the  old  '  Why  don't  you  speak  for  yourself,  John  ?' 
He's  with  her  incessantly." 

"  Oh !  Miss  Vincent  you're  speaking  of.  Her  name's  Mabel,  I 
thought,  not — what'd  you  call  her?" 

"  Never  mind,  Jimmy,"  said  Morris,  rising.  "  Come  and  have  a 
cigarette." 

And  it  was  not  only  in  the  club,  over  their  cigars,  that  men 
spoke  significantly  of  Noel's  attentions  to  the  lovely  daughter  of  the 
house  of  Vincent.  It  was  not  the  men,  indeed,  who  did  the  greater 
part  of  the  talk.  If  they  noticed  and  spoke  of  it,  what  must  not  the 
women  have  been  saying  !  Noel,  quitting  the  hospitable  roof  of  Cousin 
Amos,  had  taken  rooms  down  in  town,  midway  between  the  club  and 
the  Vincent  homestead,  and  those  two  points  became  the  limits  of 
his  field  of  action.  The  Withers  household  had  gone  to  the  Mary 
land  mountains,  and  the  massive  master  of  the  establishment  was 
treating  himself  to  a  month's  vacation.  Almost  all  the  pretty  girla 
were  gone.  What  more  natural  than  that  Mr.  Noel  should  so  fre 
quently  seek  the  society  of  the  prettiest  of  all,  even  if  she  were 
engaged  to  Frederick  Lane,  as  people  said  she  was  before  he  went 
away?  There  was  no  monitorial  Amos  to  call  him  off,  no  one  to 
bid  him  turn  his  devotions  elsewhere ;  and  she  herself  could  see  no 
harm,  for  was  not  almost  all  his  talk  of  Captain  Lane  ?  was  he  not 
his  loyal  and  devoted  friend  ?  The  captain's  letters  came  every  day, 
and  he  seemed  pleased  to  know  that  Noel  had  such  pleasant  things  to 
say  of  him,  and  was  so  attentive, — or  rather  kind,  because  it  wasn't 
really  on  her  account  that  he  came  so  frequently.  To  be  sure,  Cap 
tain  Lane  did  not  say  much  about  the  matter  one  way  or  the  other ; 
and  if  he  saw  no  harm,  if  he  expressed  no  dissatisfaction,  who  else  had 
any  right  to  find  fault  ? 

Her  mother,  was  the  answer  that  conscience  pricked  into  her  heart 
quicker  even  than  she  could  think.  For  days  past  the  good  lady's 
manner  to  Noel  had  been  gaining  in  distance  and  coolness.  "  She  is 
ill  at  ease, — worried  about  papa,"  was  Mabel's  attempt  at  a  self-satis 
fying  plea ;  but  conscience  again  warned  her  that  she  knew  better, — fur 
better.  Her  father,  engrossed  in  business  cares  that  seemed  only  to 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  67 

increase  with  every  day,  had  no  eyes  or  ears  for  affairs  domestic ;  and 
so  it  resulted  that  when  Noel  came  sauntering  in  at  evening  with  his 
jaunty,  debonair,  joyous  manner,  there  was  no  one  to  receive  him  but 
Mabel,  and  he  wanted  no  one  more. 

"  Does  Captain  Lane  know  of  this  and  approve  it  ?"  was  the  grave 
question  her  mother  had  at  last  propounded. 

"  I  have  written  to  him  with  the  utmost  frankness,  mother,"  was 
Miss  Vincent's  reply,  while  a  wave  of  color  swept  over  her  face  and  a 
rebellious  light  gleamed  in  her  eyes,  "  and  he  has  never  hinted  at  such 
a  thing  as  disapproval.  He  has  more  confidence  in  me  than  you  have. 
If  he  had  not " 

But  the  rest  was  left  unsaid. 

Poor  Mrs.  Vincent !  She  turned  away,  well  knowing  that  argu 
ment  or  opposition  in  such  matters  was  mistaken  policy.  The  words 
that  sprung  to  her  lips  were,  "  Alas  !  he  does  not  know  you  as  I  do  1" 
but  she  shut  those  lips  firmly,  rigorously  denying  herself  the  feminine 
luxury  of  the  last  word  and  the  launching  of  a  Parthian  arrow  that 
would  ha,ve  made,  indeed,  a  telling  shot.  If  heaven  is  what  it  is 
painted,  there  can  be  no  more  joy  over  the  sinner  that  repenteth  than 
over  the  woman  who  tramples  down  her  fiercest  temptation  and 
"  bridleth  her  tongue."  Mrs.  Vincent  deserved  to  be  canonized. 

And  meantime  how  went  the  world  with  Lane?  Faithful,  honest, 
simple-hearted  man  that  he  was,  holding  himself  in  such  modest  esti 
mate,  marvelling  as  he  often  did  over  the  fact  that  he  could  have  really 
won  the  love  of  a  being  so  radiant,  so  exquisite,  as  Mabel,  he  lived  in 
a  dream  that  was  all  bliss  and  beauty,  except  for  the  incessant  and  all- 
pervading  longing  to  see  her, — to  be  near  her.  He  loved  her  with  an 
intensity  that  he  had  no  means  of  expressing.  Not  a  waking  instant 
was  she  absent  from  his  thoughts,  and  in  his  dreams  she  appeared  to 
him,  crowned  with  a  halo  such  as  never  angel  knew.  He  used 
to  lie  awake  at  times  in  the  dead  hours  of  the  night,  wondering 
if  the  very  newsboys  and  workmen  of  the  city  realized  their  blessed 
privilege,  that  they  could  step  upon  the  flagstones  her  little  foot 
had  pressed,  that  they  could  see  her  face,  perhaps  hear  her  voice, 
as  she  strolled  in  the  cool  of  evening  along  the  gravelled  path 
way  of  the  little  park  that  adjoined  her  home.  Loving  her  as  he 
did,  his  heart  went  out  to  any  one  who  knew  her  or  was  even  familiar 
with  the  city  where  she  dwelt.  He  had  felt  for  years  a  contempt  for 
Gordon  Noel  that,  at  times,  he  had  difficulty  in  disguising.  Now  he 


68  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

was  tempted  to  write  to  him,  to  shut  out  the  past,  to  ojten  confi 
dential  relations  and  have  him  write  long  letters  that  should  tell  of 
her.  There  were  three  men  in  his  troop  in  whom  he  felt  a  vague, 
mysterious  interest  simply  because  they  had  been  enlisted  at  the  old 
rendezvous  on  Sycamore  Street,  only  three  squares  from  her  home. 
He  was  so  full  of  hope  and  faith  and  love  and  gratitude  that  the  whole 
garrison  seemed  to  hold  naught  but  cheer  and  friendliness.  He  never 
dreamed  of  the  stories  the  men  were  telling  or  the  confidences  women 
were  whispering  about  the  post.  Noel  had  written  again  to  Mrs.  Riggs, 
and  Mrs.  Riggs  had  not  spared  her  information.  It  was  now  said  iu 
Queen  City  society  that  the  engagement  was  of  Mr.  Vincent's  making. 
He  had  been  associated  with  Lane  in  some  speculations  that  proved 
disastrous,  but  the  captain  had  shown  such  command  of  money  and  had 
"  put  up"  at  such  an  opportune  moment  that  they  came  out  in  good 
shape  after  all,  and  as  soon  as  the  old  man  found  that  Lane  loved  hia 
daughter  he  insisted  on  her  accepting  him.  The  information  about 
Lane's  coming  to  the  rescue  with  money  he  had  heard  from  Mr. 
Vincent  himself, — as  indeed  he  had.  One  evening  when  they  were  for 
the  moment  alone,  in  a  burst  of  confidence  to  the  man  whom  he  believed 
to  be  a  devoted  friend  of  his  prospective  son-in-law,  Vincent  had  told 
the  silent  officer  the  story  of  that  perilous  crisis  and  of  Lane's  prompt 
and  generous  loan, — but  not  as  Noel  told  it  to  Mrs.  Riggs. 

"  Do  not  distress  yourself,  my  darling  one,"  wrote  Lane  to  his 
fiancee,  "  because  your  letters  are  a  little  less  frequent  just  now.  I  know 
how  occupied  you  must  be  with  preparation,  and  how  anxious  you  are 
about  the  dear  old  father.  Next  week  you  will  be  in  the  mountains  ; 
and  then,  as  you  say,  people  will  give  you  time  to  write,  and  then,  too, 
I  shall  be  happy  in  your  regaining  health  and  spirits.  The  papers  tell 
me  how  intense  has  been  the  heat :  it  almost  equals  ours  here  in  one 
way,  and  is  much  worse  in  being  moist  and  muggy.  There  is  a  pros 
pect  of  my  going  on  a  two  weeks'  scout  with  my  whole  troop  early  in 
the  month  ;  but  your  letters  will  reach  me  safely." 

Why  was  it  that  she  should  experience  a  feeling  almost  of  relief 
in  reading  that  he  was  going  to  be  absent  from  the  garrison  awhile, — 
going  out  on  a  two  weeks'  scout  ? 

She  had  sent  him,  as  she  promised,  a  lovely  cabinet  photograph  of 
herself  that  had  been  taken  expressly  for  him.  It  came  to  the  old 
frontier  fort  just  as  the  men  were  marching  up  from  evening  stables, 
and  the  messenger,  distributing  the  mail  about  the  post,  handed  the 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  69 

packet  to  the  captain  as  he  stood  with  a  little  knot  of  comrades  on  the 
walk.  There  was  instant  demand  that  he  should  open  it  and  show  the 
picture  to  them,  but,  blushing  like  a  girl,  he  broke  away  and  hid  him 
self  in  his  room ;  and  then,  when  sure  of  being  uninterrupted,  he  took 
it  to  the  window  and  feasted  his  eyes  upon  the  exquisite  face  and  form 
there  portrayed.  He  kept  it  from  that  time  in  a  silken  case,  which  he 
locked  in  a  bureau  drawer  whenever  he  left  the  house,  but  in  the  even 
ings,  or  when  writing  at  his  desk,  he  brought  it  forth  to  light  again 
and  set  it  where  every  moment  he  could  look  upon  and  almost  wor 
ship  it. 

And  then  came  her  letters  announcing  their  safe  arrival  at  Deer 
Park  : 

"  Our  journey  was  most  trying,  for  the  heat  was  intolerable  until 
we  got  well  up  among  the  mountains.  Papa  came ;  but  I  know  he 
is  simply  fretting  his  heart  out  with  anxiety  to  get  back  to  the  office. 
Mr.  Clark  only  returned  from  his  vacation  the  day  we  started.  Gordon 
Noel  came  down  to  the  train  to  see  us  off,  and  brought  mother  a  basket 
of  such  luscious  fruit.  He  says  that  he  has  no  home  to  go  to,  now  that 
we  are  gone.  Indeed,  he  has  been  very  thought  ful  and  kind,  and  I 
don't  think  he  is  quite  happy,  despite  his  efforts  to  be  always  gay  and 
cheerful.  .  .  . 

"  Do  you  really  mean  that  you  will  be  gone  a  fortnight  ?  How  I 
shall  miss  your  dear  letters,  Fred !  And  now  indeed  I  will  try  to 
write  regularly.  There's  no  one  here  I  care  anything  about,  though 
the  hotel  seems  very  full,  and  there  is  much  dancing  and  gayety.  You 
say  my  letters  will  reach  you ;  but  I  wonder  how." 

Lane  read  this  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  He  had  persuaded  himself 
that  it  was  because  he  dreaded  the  effect  of  the  long-continued  hot 
weather  upon  her  that  he  so  desired  her  to  get  to  the  mountains.  Any 
other  thought  would  have  been  disloyalty  to  his  queen.  He  wished — • 
just  a  little  bit — that  she  had  not  written  of  him  as  Gordon  Noel : 
he  much  preferred  that  she  should  call  him  Captain.  She  would  not 
write  so  fully  and  frankly  of  him  if  he  were  anything  but  friendly,  he 
argued,  and  she  would  not  tolerate  his  visits  on  any  other  grounds. 
Yet  she  did  not  tell  him  that  they  had  walked  up  and  down  the  plat 
form  together  for  ten  minutes  before  the  train  started,  and  that  when 
it  was  time  to  part  he  had  bent  down  and  said,  almost  in  a  whisper, — 

"  Do  you  want  to  send  a  message  for  me  to  Fred  Lane  in  your  next 
letter?" 


70  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

"  I  will  do  so,  if  you  wish,"  she  murmured ;  but  her  eyes  fell  be 
fore  the  gaze  in  his,  and  the  hot  blood  rushed  to  her  face. 

"  Tell  him  there's  no  man  in  all  the  regiment  I  so  long  to  see,  and 
no  man  in  all  the  world — I  so  envy." 

Probably  conscience  smote  her,  for  during  the  week  that  followed 
five  letters  came, — five  letters  in  seven  days !  His  heart  went  wild 
with  delight  over  their  tenderness.  The  last  was  written  Saturday, 
and  then  none  came  for  three  days ;  and  when  the  fourth  day  came 
and  brought  the  longed-for  missive  it  was  a  disappointment,  somehow. 

"  Papa  left  us  to  go  back  to  the  office  last  night,"  she  wrote.  "  He 
could  stand  it  no  longer.  I  fear  it  did  him  little  good  here.  The 
Witherses  came  on  Saturday,  and  that  strange  girl,  Miss  Marshall, 
is  with  them.  She  always  impresses  me  with  the  idea  that  she  is 
striving  to  read  my  thoughts.  She  speaks  so  admiringly  of  you, 
and  says  you  were  'so  courteous'  to  her  the  night  you  dined  at  the 
Witherses' ;  and  I  do  not  remember  your  ever  saying  anything  about 
her  to  me.  You  see,  sir,  I  am  much  more  communicative  about  my 
friends. 

"  We  had  such  a  delightful  surprise  Saturday  night.  Who  should 
appear  in  the  hop-room  but  Gordon  Noel  ?  He  stayed  until  the  mid 
night  train  Sunday ;  and  I  really  was  very  glad  to  see  him." 

And  here  Lane  stopped  reading  for  a  while. 

XI. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  the  scout  which  Lane's  company  had  been 
ordered  to  hold  itself  in  readiness  to  make  was  postponed,  no  further 
orders  coming  from  Department  head-quarters  which  required  sending 
any  troops  into  the  mountains  west  of  Fort  Graham.  The  captain,  far 
from  being  disappointed,  seemed  strangely  relieved  that  he  was  not  re 
quired  to  take  his  troop  into  the  field  at  that  particular  moment.  "  Some 
thing  had  happened,"  said  Mrs.  Breese,  who  was  a  keen  observer, 
"  to  change  the  spirit  of  his  dream  within  the  last  few  days."  His  face 
lacked  the  radiant  and  joyous  look  that  it  had  had  ever  since  he  came 
back  from  the  East.  "  Is  he  getting  an  inkling  of  the  stories  that  are 
in  circulation  ?"  was  the  natural  inquiry.  "  Is  he  beginning  to  learn 
that  others  were  before  him  in  that  fair  charmer's  regard?"  Still,  no 
one  could  question  him.  There  was  something  about  him,  with  all  his 
frankness  and  kindliness,  that  held  people  aloof  from  anything  like 


TWO  SOLUIERS,  71 

confidence.  He  never  had  a  confidant  of  either  sex;  and  this  was 
something  that  rendered  him  at  one  time  somewhat  unpopular  among 
the  women.  Younger  officers  almost  always,  as  a  rule,  had  chosen 
some  one  of  the  married  ladies  of  the  regiment  as  a  repositary  of  their 
cares  and  anxieties,  their  hopes  and  fears ;  but  Lane  had  never  in 
dulged  in  any  such  luxury,  and  all  the  better  for  him  was  it.  Now  it 
was  noticed  with  what  eagerness  and  anxiety  he  watched  for  the  coming 
of  the  mail.  It  was  also  observed  that  during  the  two  weeks  that  fol 
lowed  only  four  letters  were  received  in  her,  by  this  time,  well-known 
superscription.  Lane,  of  course,  reading  the  contents,  could  readily 
account  for  the  scarcity.  Her  letters  were  full  of  descriptions  of  dances 
and  picnics  and  riding-parties  to  the  neighboring  mountains.  They 
had  met  scores  of  pleasant  people,  and  had  become  acquainted  with  a 
large  circle  from  all  parts  of  the  country.  They  danced  every  evening 
regularly  in  the  hop-room,  and  were  so  thoroughly  acquainted,  and  so 
accustomed  to  one  another's  moods  and  fancies,  that  hardly  an  hour 
passed  in  which  they  were  not  occupied  in  some  pleasant  recreation. 
Lawn-te^nnis  had  always  been  a  favorite  game  of  hers,  and  her  mother 
was  glad,  she  said,  to  see  her  picking  it  up  again  with  such  alacrity. 
The  open  air  was  doing  her  good :  her  color  was  returning ;  the  lan 
guor  and  weakness  which  had  oppressed  her  when  she  first  arrived 
after  the  long  hot  spell  at  home  had  disappeared  entirely.  But  with 
returning  health  came  all  the  longing  for  out-door  active  occupation, 
and,  instead  of  having,  as  she  had  planned,  hours  in  which  to  write  to 
him,  almost  all  her  time  now  was  taken  up  in  joyous  sports,  in  horse 
back-rides,  in  long  drives  over  the  mountain-roads  and  through  the 
beautiful  scenery  by  which  they  were  surrounded.  "And  so,"  she 
said,  "  Fred,  dear,  in  regaining  health  and  color,  I  fear,  your  Mabel 
has  very  sadly  neglected  you." 

His  reply  to  her  letter  telling  him  of  Mr.  Noel's  unexpected  ap 
pearance  at  the  Park  was  rather  a  difficult  one  for  him  to  write.  It 
was  dawning  upon  him  that  the  attentions  of  his  regimental  comrade 
to  his  fiancee  were  not  as  entirely  platonic  as  they  might  be.  Desire 
to  show  all  courtesy  and  kindliness  to  the  lady-love  of  another  officer 
was  all  very  well  in  its  way,  but  it  did  not  necessitate  daily  calls  when 
at  home,  and  far  less  did  it  warrant  his  leaving  his  station  without  per 
mission — running  the  risk  of  a  reprimand,  or  even  possible  court-mar 
tial — and  taking  a  long  journey,  being  absent  from  his  post  all  Satur 
day  and  certainly  not  returning  there  before  the  afternoon  of  Monday. 


72  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

If  this  were  known  at  the  head-quarters  of  the  recruiting  service, 
Lieutenant  Noel  in  all  probability  would  be  rapped  severely  over  the 
knuckles,  if  nothing  worse.  Lane  could  not,  and  would  not,  for 
an  instant  blame  his  fianc&e,  but  he  gently  pointed  out  to  her  that 
Mr.  Noel  ran  great  risks  in  making  such  a  journey,  and  that  it 
would  be  well  on  that  account  to  discourage  similar  expeditions  in 
the  future.  To  this  she  made  no  direct  reply ;  but  that  she  observed 
his  caution  is  quite  possible.  At  all  events,  no  further  mention  of 
visits  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Noel  appeared  in  any  of  the  letters  which 
reached  him  before  the  orders  for  the  scout  actually  did  arrive ;  but 
that  was  not  until  near  the  very  end  of  the  month.  It  was  just  about 
the  28th  of  August  when  rumors  came  of  turbulence  and  threatened 
outbreak  among  the  Indians  at  the  Chiricahua  Reservation.  Troops 
were  already  marching  thither  from  the  stations  in  Arizona,  and 
Captain  Lane  was  ordered  to  cross  the  range  and  scout  on  the 
east  side  of  the  reservation,  in  order  to  drive  back  any  renegades 
who  might  be  tempted  to  "  make  a  break."  Just  one  day  before  tho 
start  he  was  surprised  at  receiving  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Vincent.  She 
spoke  gladly  of  Mabel's  improved  health  and  appearance ;  she  spoke 
hopefully  of  Mr.  Vincent,  whose  letters,  she  said,  were  more  cheerful 
than  they  had  been,  and  who  had  been  able  to  come  up  and  spend  two 
Sundays  with  them.  Mabel  had  doubtless  told  him  of  Mr.  Noel's  visit, 
and  how  glad  they  were  just  then  to  see  any  face  so  pleasant  and 
familiar.  And  now  she  wished  to  remind  him  of  their  contract  before 
his  leaving  for  the  frontier.  He  doubtless  remembered  that  she  had 
promised  that  in  the  near  future  she  would  give  him  the  reasons  why 
it  seemed  best  to  her  that  the  engagement  should  not  be  announced. 
It  would  take  a  pretty  long  letter  to  tell  all  the  reasons  why,  so  she 
would  not  venture  upon  that  at  the  moment ;  but  the  necessity  no 
longer  existed,  and  if  he  so  desired  she  would  gladly  have  it  now  made 
known  to  his  relatives,  as  she  would  now  proceed  to  announce  it  to 
Mabel's. 

Lane  was  greatly  rejoiced  at  this.  He  had  been  a  trifle  uneasy 
and  despondent  of  late,  yet  scarcely  knew  why.  Her  letters  were  not 
all  he  had  hoped  they  would  be  by  this  time ;  but  then  he  did  not 
know  but  that  it  was  all  natural  and  right ;  he  had  never  had  love- 
letters  before, — had  never  seen  them, — and  his  ideas  of  what  a  woman's 
letters  to  her  betrothed  should  be  were  somewhat  vague  and  undefined. 
However,  there  was  no  one  in  the  garrison  to  whom  he  specially  cared 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  73 

to  formally  announce  his  engagement.  People  had  ceased  of  late 
making  remarks  or  inquiries,  as  nothing  had  been  successful  in  extract 
ing  information  from  him  in  the  past.  Giving  directions  that  his  mail 
should  be  forwarded  once  a  week,  or  twice  a  week  if  possible,  to  the 
railway-station  nearest  the  Chiricahua  Mountains,  where  he  could  get 
it  by  sending  couriers  once  in  a  while,  provided  there  was  no  danger  in 
doing  so,  Lane  marched  away  one  evening  on  what  proved  to  be  an 
absence  of  an  entire  month.  He  never  again  saw  Fort  Graham  until 
the  end  of  September,  and  then  only  long  enough  to  enable  him  to 
change  from  his  scouting-rig  into  travelling  costume,  to  throw  a  few 
clothes  into  a  trunk,  and  to  drive  to  the  railway-station  as  fast  as 
the  ambulance  could  carry  him,  in  order  to  catch  the  first  express-train 
going  East. 

Nothing  of  very  great  importance  had  occurred  on  the  scout.  A 
few  renegades  managed  to  escape  eastward  from  the  reservation  and 
to  take  to  the  mountains,  through  which  Lane's  command  was  then 
scouting ;  and  to  him  and  to  his  troop  was  intrusted  the  duty  of  cap 
turing  and  bringing  them  back  to  the  reservation.  This  took  him 
many  a  long  mile  south  of  the  railway.  It  was  three  weeks  and 
more  before  he  made  his  way  to  the  reservation  with  his  prisoners. 
There  he  found  a  small  package  of  letters  which  had  been  forwarded 
direct  from  Graham,  where  they  evidently  knew  that  he  would  go  into 
the  Agency  before  reaching  the  railway,  where  his  other  letters  were 
probably  awaiting  him.  Among  those  which  he  received  was  one 
from  Mr.  Vincent.  Briefly,  it  said  to  him,  "  If  a  possible  thing,  come 
to  us  as  soon  as  you  can  obtain  leave  of  absence.  There  are  matters 
which  excite  ray  greatest  apprehension,  and  I  feel  that  I  must  see  you. 
My  health,  I  regret  to  say,  is  failing  me  rapidly.  Come,  if  you  can." 
Another  was  from  Mrs.  "Vincent :  she  spoke  with  great  anxiety  of  Mr. 
Vincent's  waning  health ;  said  very  little  of  Mabel,  nothing  whatever 
of  Mr.  Noel.  She  told  him  that  the  engagement  had  been  formally 
announced  to  all  their  relatives,  and  that  letters  of  congratulation  had 
been  showered  on  Mabel  from  all  sides, — although  there  was  some 
little  surprise  expressed  that  she  should  marry  an  army  officer.  "  She, 
herself,  has  not  been  well  at  all,  and  I  really  believe  that  a  visit  from 
you  would  do  much  to  restore  her  health  and  spirits.  She  has  been 
unlike  herself  ever  since  we  came  back  from  the  mountains." 

In  this  same  package  of  letters  were  two  from  Mabel.  These  he 
read  with  infinite  yearning  in  his  heart,  and  they  only  served  to  increase 
D  7 


74  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

the  wordless  anxiety  and  the  intolerable  sense  of  something  lacking 
which  he  had  first  felt  after  the  letter  that  announced  Gordon  Noel's 
visit  to  Deer  Park.  One  more  letter  there  was  :  this  he  opened,  saw 
that  it  was  type-written  and  had  no  signature,  indignantly  tore  it  into 
fragments,  and  tossed  them  to  the  wind. 

The  commanding  general  of  the  Department — an  old  and  kind 
friend  of  Lane's — was  then  looking  over  affairs  for  himself,  at  the 
reservation.  Lane  obtained  a  few  moments'  conversation  with  him, 
briefly  stated  his  needs,  and  showed  him  Mr.  Vincent's  letter.  The 
instant  the  general  saw  the  signature  he  looked  up,  startled,  and  then 
arose  from  his  seat,  put  his  hand  on  the  captain's  shoulder,  and  drew 
him  to  one  side. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  he  said,  "  there  is  later  news  than  this.  It  is 
dated  September  14,  you  see.  Have  you  heard  nothing  more  ?" 

"  Nothing,  general.  What  has  happened  ?"  answered  Lane,  his 
voice  trembling  and  his  bronzed  face  rapidly  paling.  "  Am  I — am  I 
too  late?" 

"  I  fear  so,  Lane.     Had  Mr.  Vincent  a  partner  named  Clark  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir, — his  junior  partner." 

"  Clark  defaulted,  embezzled,  hypothecated  securities  and  heaven 
knows  what  all,  blew  out  his  brains  in  his  private  office,  and  Mr.  Vin 
cent  stumbled  over  the  body  an  hour  afterwards,  was  prostrated  by  the 
shock,  and  died  of  heart-failure  three  days  later.  The  papers  were  full 
of  the  tragedy  for  nearly  a  week ;  but  there  are  none  to  be  had  here, 
I'm  afraid.  Now  you  will  want  to  start  at  once.  Never  mind  your 
troop.  Just  tell  your  lieutenant  to  report  here  to  Captain  Bright 
for  orders,  and  I'll  have  them  sent  back  to  Graham  by  easy  marches." 

Late  at  night  Lane  reached  the  railway,  only  to  find  his  train  five 
hours  behind.  He  telegraphed  to  Mabel  that  he  would  come  to  her  as 
fast  as  train  could  bring  him, — that  the  sad  news  had  only  just  reached 
him.  He  strode  for  hours  up  and  down  the  little  platform  under  the 
glittering  stars,  yearning  to  reach  her,  to  comfort  and  console  her  in 
this  bitter  sorrow.  Time  and  again  he  turned  over  in  mind  the  few 
particulars  which  he  had  obtained  from  the  Department  commander. 
They  were  all  too  brief,  but  pointed  conclusively  to  one  fact, — that 
Clark  had  been  encouraged  by  the  success  of  June  to  plunge  still  more 
deeply,  in  the  hope  of  retrieving  the  losses  of  the  past  two  years. 
Luckily  for  Vincent,  he  had  used  his  June  winnings  in  lifting 
the  mortgage  from  his  homestead  and  in  taking  up  any  of  his  out- 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  75 

standing  paper,  and  so  had  little  wherewith  to  supply  his  confident 
partner ;  but  Lane  wondered  if  the  kindly  old  man  had  any  idea  that 
up  to  the  end  of  August,  at  least,  Clark  had  not  sent  to  him,  as 
directed,  "  the  draft  for  the  entire  amount"  to  which  referred  the  first 
letter  Mr.  Vincent  had  ever  written  him. 

It  was  daybreak  when  the  train  came.  It  was  noon  when  he  sprang 
from  the  cars  at  Graham  Station  and  into  the  ambulance  sent  to  meet 
him  in  response  to  his  telegraphic  request.  Were  there  any  letters  ?  he 
eagerly  asked.  None  now.  A  small  package  had  been  forwarded  to 
the  reservation  last  night,  and  must  have  passed  him  on  the  way. 
Others  had  been  waiting  for  him  at  the  mountain-station  until  he  was 
reported  by  wire  as  arriving  with  his  prisoners  at  the  Agency.  Every 
thing  then  had  been  sent  thither,  and  there  would  be  no  getting  them 
before  starting.  At  Graham  the  telegraph  operator  showed  him  the 
duplicates  of  the  telegrams  that  had  come  for  him  in  his  absence, — 
only  two.  One  announced  Mr.  Clark's  suicide  and  Vincent's  prostra 
tion  and  danger ;  the  other,  two  days  later,  briefly  read,  "  Mr.  Vincent 
died  this,  morning.  Mrs.  Vincent  and  Mabel  fairly  well." 

Both  were  signed  "  Gordon  Noel,"  and  a  jealous  pang  shot  through 
the  poor  fellow's  heart  as  he  realized  that  in  all  their  bereavement  and 
grief  it  was  Noel's  privilege  to  be  with  them  and  to  be  of  use  to  them, 
while  he,  her  affianced  husband,  was  far  beyond  hail.  He  was  ashamed 
of  his  own  thoughts  an  instant  after,  and  bitterly  upbraided  himself 
that  he  was  not  thankful  that  they  could  have  had  so  attentive  and 
thoughtful  an  aid  as  Noel  well  knew  how  to  be.  Yet — why  was  not 
Reginald  sufficient? 

He  had  torn  into  fragments  the  anonymous  sheet  that  had  met  him 
at  the  reservation,  and  yet  its  words  were  gnawing  at  his  heartstrings 
now,  and  he  could  not  crush  them  down  : 

"  Why  was  your  engagement  denied  ?  Because  she  still  cared  for 
Will  Kossiter  and  hoped  he  might  come  back  to  her  after  all. 

"  Why  did  Gordon  Noel  stay  at  the  other  hotel  the  second  and 
third  times  he  spent  Sunday  at  Deer  Park  ?  Because  she  wished  to 
hide  from  her  mother,  as  she  did  from  you,  that  he  came  at  all. 

"  Why  does  she  meet  him  on  the  street  instead  of  at  home  ? 
Because  her  father  interposed  in  your  behalf;  but  all  the  same  you  are 
being  betrayed." 

These  words — or  others  exactly  of  their  import,  were  what  met  hi» 
startled  eyes  at  Chiricahua,  but  the  instant  he  noted  that  these  carefully 


76  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

type-written  sentences  were  followed  by  no  signature  at  all, — not  even 
the  oft-abused  "  A  Friend/' — indignation  and  wrath  followed  close  on 
the  heels  of  his  amaze,  and  in  utter  contempt  he  had  destroyed  the 
cowardly  sheet ;  but  he  could  not  so  easily  conquer  the  poison  thus 
injected  in  his  veins.  All  the  long,  long  journey  to  the  East  they 
haunted  him,  dancing  before  his  eyes,  sleeping  or  waking,  and  it  was 
with  haggard  face  and  wearied  frame  that  he  reached  the  Queen  City, 
and,  taking  a  cab,  drove  at  once  to  her  home. 

It  was  a  lovely  evening  in  early  October.  The  sun  had  been 
shining  brilliantly  all  day  long,  and  almost  everywhere  doors  and 
windows  were  open  to  woo  the  cool  air  now  gently  stirring.  The  cab 
stopped  before  the  well-remembered  steps,  and  Lane  hastened  to  the 
broad  door- way.  No  need  to  ring  :  the  portals  stood  invitingly  open. 
The  gas  burned  brightly  in  the  hall  and  in  the  sitting-room  to  the  left. 
He  entered  unhesitatingly,  and  stood  all  alone  in  the  room  where  he 
had  spent  so  many  happy  hours  listening  to  the  music  of  her  voice, 
watching  the  play  and  animation  in  her  lovely  face.  He  caught  a 
glimpse  of  his  own,  gaunt,  haggard,  hollow-eyed,  in  the  mirror  over 
the  old-fashioned  mantel.  What  was  he,  that  he  should  have  won  a 
creature  so  radiant,  so  exquisite,  as  the  girl  who  had  made  these  silent 
rooms  a  heaven  to  him?  There  was  the  heavy  portiere  that  shut  off 
the  little  passage  to  the  library.  His  foot-fall  made  no  sound  in  the 
deep,  rich  carpeting.  It  was  there  she  welcomed  him  that  wonderful 
Friday  afternoon, — that  day  that  was  the  turning-point,  the  climax, 
of  his  life.  Hark  !  was  that  her  voice,  low,  sweet,  tremulous,  in  there 
now  ?  Hush  !  Was  that  a  sob  ? — a  woman's  suppressed  weeping  ? 
Quickly  he  stepped  forward,  and  in  an  instant  had  thrust  aside  the 
second  portiere;  but  he  halted  short  at  the  threshold,  petrified  by  the 
scene  before  him. 

Mabel  Vincent,  clasped  in  Gordon  Noel's  embrace,  her  arms  about 
his  neck,  gazing  up  into  his  face  with  almost  worship  in  her  weeping 
eyes,  raised  her  lips  to  meet  the  passionate  kiss  of  his.  "  My  darling," 
he  murmured,  "  what  can  you  fear  ?  Have  you  not  given  me  the 
right  to  protect  you  ?"  And  the  handsome  head  was  tossed  proudly 
back  and  for  one  little  minute  was  indeed  heroic.  Then,  with  instan 
taneous  change,  every  drop  of  blood  fled  from  his  face,  leaving  it  ashen, 
death-like. 

"  Gordon  /"  she  cried,  "  what  is  it  ?    Are  you  ill  ?" 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  77 

Then,  following  the  glance  of  his  staring  eyes,  she  turned,  and  saw, 
and  swooned  away. 

XII. 

A  dreary  winter  was  that  of  188-  at  old  Fort  Graham.  Captain 
Breese  became  major  of  the  — th,  and  his  troop  was  ordered  to  exchange 
with  K,  which  had  been  so  long  at  head-quarters,  and  this  brought 
old  Jim  Rawlins  up  to  take  command  of  the  little  cavalry  battalion  at 
"  the  oasis."  There  were  many  of  the  officers — Rawlins  among  them — 
who  thought  that  after  his  success  with  "  the  Devil's  Own/'  as  D  Troop 
had  been  called,  Lane  was  entitled  to  enjoy  the  position  of  battalion 
commander ;  but  Mrs.  Riggs  had  promptly  asserted  her  belief  that  he 
was  not  in  position  to  enjoy  anything.  He  had  come  back  to  the  post 
late  in  the  fall,  looking  some  years  older  and  graver ;  he  had  been  very 
ill  at  Jefferson  Barracks,  said  letters  from  that  point,  while  waiting  to 
take  out  a  party  of  recruits  to  the  regiment;  he  had  resumed  duty 
without  a  word  to  anybody  of  the  matters  that  had  so  suddenly  called 
him  Ea^t,  but  there  was  no  need  of  telling:  they  knew  all  about  it; 
at  least  they  said  and  thought  they  did.  Mrs.  Riggs  had  had  such 
complete  accounts  from  Noel,  and  had  received  such  a  sweet  letter  from 
Miss  Vincent  in  reply  to  the  one  she  had  written  congratulating  her 
upon  her  engagement  to  her  (Mrs.  Riggs's)  "favorite  among  all  the 
officers, — and  the  colonel's,  too."  "  She  was  so  sorry — so  painfully  dis 
tressed — about  Captain  Lane,"  said  Mrs.  Riggs.  "  She  never  really 
cared  for  him.  It  was  gratitude  and  propinquity,  and  pleasure  in  his 
attentions,  that  she  mistook  for  love ;  but  she  never  knew  what  love 
was  until  she  met  Gordon.  They  were  to  be  married  early  in  the 
spring,  and  would  take  only  a  brief  tour,  for  he  had  to  be  at  his  station. 
She  dreaded  coming  to  the  regiment,  though  she  would  follow  Gordon 
to  the  end  of  the  world  if  he  said  so,  for  she  knew  there  were  people 
who  would  blame  her  for  breaking  with  Captain  Lane  as  she  had  to ; 
but  she  knew  long  before  she  did  so  that  they  could  never  be  happy 
together.  She  had  written  to  him,  telling  him  all,  long  before  he  came 
East  and  they  had  that  dreadful  scene  in  which  Mr.  Noel  had  behaved 
with  such  perfect  self-command  and  such  excessive  consideration  for 
Captain  Lane's  feelings.  Of  course,  as  Gordon  said,  all  possibility  of 
reconciliation  or  future  friendship  between  them  was  at  an  end  unless 
Captain  Lane  humbly  apologized.  She  had  been  mercifully  spared 
hearing  it ;  for  the  fearful  expression  of  his  face  when  they  discovered 

7* 


78  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

him  listening  at  the  portiSre  had  caused  her  to  faint  away,  and  she  only 
came  to,  Gordon  said,  in  time  to  prevent  his  pitching  him  out  of  the 
window,  so  utterly  was  he  tried.  She  was  so  thankful  to  have  in  Mrs. 
Riggs  a  friend  who  would  not  see  Gordon  wronged,  and  who  could  be 
counted  on  to  deny  any  stories  that  poor  Captain  Lane  in  his  dis 
appointment  might  put  in  circulation." 

But  Lane  never  mentioned  the  subject.  As  for  the  letters  to  which 
she  referred,  they  all  followed  him  East  in  one  bundle  and  were  sent 
to  her  unopened ;  and  she  knew  when  she  wrote  to  Mrs.  Riggs  that, 
though  she  might  have  "  told  him  all,"  as  she  said,  he  never  knew  a 
word  of  it  until  his  eyes  and  ears  revealed  the  truth  that  wretched 
night  in  the  library  where  his  brief,  sweet  love-dream  began  and  ended. 

There  were  other  matters  wherein  Mr.  Noel  himself  was  consulting 
Mrs.  Riggs.  He  was  now  senior  first  lieutenant.  Any  accident  of 
service  might  make  him  a  captain,  and  then,  if  precedent  were  followed, 
"  he  might  be  ordered  to  join  at  once.  Ordinarily,  as  she  well  knew, 
nothing  would  give  him  greater  joy ;  but  now — solely  on  Mabel's 
account — he  hesitated.  A  friend  at  the  War  Department  had  said 
that,  if  Colonel  Riggs  would  approve,  a  six  months'  leave  to  visit 
Europe,  for  the  purpose  of  prosecuting  his  professional  studies,  might 
be  obtained.  Would  she  kindly,  etc.,  etc." 

There  was  no  one  to  write  or  speak  for  Lane :  only  one  side  of  the 
story  was  being  told,  and,  though  the  men  had  had  little  else  than 
contempt  for  Noel,  they  were  of  small  account  in  moulding  garrison 
opinions  as  compared  with  two  or  three  determined  women. 

But  no  one  saw  the  sorrowful,  almost  heart-broken,  letter  written 
by  Mrs.  Vincent  to  Lane.  She  had  no  words  in  which  to  speak  of 
Mabel's  conduct.  They  had  both  been  deceived ;  and  yet  she  implored 
him  for  forgiveness  for  her  child.  The  world  was  all  changed  now. 
Their  home  remained  to  them,  and  her  own  little  fortune,  together  with 
the  wreck  of  Mr.  Vincent's,  but  Regy  had  to  go  out  into  the  world 
and  seek  to  earn  what  he  could.  He  had  no  idea  of  business.  There 
was  no  one  to  step  in  and  build  up  the  old  firm,  and  the  executors  had 
advised  that  everything  be  closed  out.  Mr.  Clark's  affairs  had  been 
left  in  lamentable  confusion,  but  luckily  he  had  nothing  else  to  leave, — 
nothing,  that  is,  but  confusion  and  creditors.  People  were  constantly 
importuning  her  for  payment  of  his  liabilities,  claiming  that  they  were 
contracted  by  the  firm.  Her  lawyers  absolutely  forbade  her  listening 
to  such  demands.  If  she  paid  one-fourth  of  tL  -a  she  would  have 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  79 

nothing  left.  Lane  thought  of  his  sacrificed  Cheyenne  property  and 
the  little  fortune  he  had  so  freely  offered  up  to  save  to  the  girl  he  loved 
the  home  in  which  she  had  been  reared.  The  very  roof  under  which 
the  girl  had  plighted  her  troth  to  him  and  then  dishonored  it  for 
Noel — under  which,  day  after  day,  she  was  now  receiving,  welcoming, 
caressing  him — was  practically  rescued  for  her  and  her  mother  by  the 
money  of  the  man  she  had  cast  aside. 

The  wedding-cards  came  in  April.  It  was  to  be  a  quiet  affair, 
because  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Vincent  within  the  year.  Lane  read  the 
announcement  in  the  Army  aiid  Navy  Journal)  and  sat  for  a  while,  the 
paper  dropping  to  the  floor  and  his  head  upon  his  hands.  Elsewhere 
in  its  columns  he  found  a  full  account,  written  evidently  by  some  one 
thoroughly  well  acquainted  with  all  the  parties,  except  perhaps  the 
gallant  groom. 

When  Lane's  servant  tiptoed  in  at  reveille  the  next  morning 
to  prepare  the  bath  and  black  the  boots,  he  was  surprised  to  find 
that  officer  sitting  at  his  desk  with  his  head  pillowed  in  his  arms.  lie 
had  not  been  to  bed,  and  did  not  know  that  reveille  had  sounded.  Was 
he  ill  ?  Did  he  need  the  doctor  ?  No.  .  He  had  to  sit  up  late  over 
some  letters  and  papers,  and  had  finally  fallen  asleep  there.  All  the 
eame  Dr.  Gowen,  happening  into  the  hospital  while  Lane  was  visiting 
one  of  his  men  after  sick-call,  stopped,  and  keenly  examined  his  face. 

"  I  want  you  to  go  right  to  your  quarters  and  stay  there,  Lane,  for 
you've  got  a  fever,  and,  I  believe,  mountain  fever,"  were  his  immediate 
orders.  "  I'll  be  with  you  in  a  moment."  It  was  only  the  beginning 
of  what  proved  to  be  a  trying  illness  of  several  weeks'  duration. 
When  Lane  was  able  to  sit  up  again,  it  was  the  recommendation  of 
the  post-surgeon  and  of  his  regimental  commander  that  he  be  sent  East 
on  sick-leave  for  at  least  three  months.  And  the  first  week  of  June 
found  him  at  West  Point :  he  had  many  old  and  warm  friends  there,  and 
their  companionship  and  cordiality  cheered  him  greatly.  One  night, 
strolling  back  from  parade  to  the  broad  piazza  of  the  hotel,  he  saw  the 
stage  drive  up  from  the  landing  and  a  number  of  visitors  scurry  up  the 
steps  in  haste  to  escape  the  prying  eyes  of  the  older  arrivals,  who  in 
variably  thronged  the  south  piazza  at  such  times  and  curiously  inspected 
the  travel-stained  and  cinder-spotted  faces  of  those  whose  ill  luck  it  was 
to  have  to  run  that  social  gauntlet.  There  was  something  familiar  in 
the  face  of  a  young  lady  following  a  portly  matron  into  the  hall,  and 
when  a  moment  later  he  came  upon  the  massive  frame  of  Mr.  Amos 


80  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

Withers,  registering  himself,  his  wife,  daughters,  and  Miss  Marshall,  of 
the  Queen  City,  Lane  knew  at  once  that  it  was  his  friend  of  the  dismal 
dinner  of  nearly  a  year  ago.  Later  that  evening  he  met  her  in  the 
hall,  and  was  surprised  at  the  prompt  and  pleasant  recognition  which 
she  gave  him.  It  wis  not  long  before  they  were  on  the  north  piazza, 
watching  that  peerless  view  up  the  Hudson,  and,  finding  that  she  had 
never  been  there  before  and  was  enthusiastic  in  her  admiration  of  the 
scenery,  Lane  took  pleasure  in  pointing  out  to  her  the  various  objects 
of  interest  that  could  be  seen  through  the  brilliant  sheen  of  moonlight. 
And  so,  having  made  himself  at  once  useful  and  entertaining,  he  finally 
went  to  his  bed  with  a  sensation  of  having  passed  rather  a  brighter 
evening  than  he  had  known  in  a  long,  long  time. 

On  the  following  day  Miss  Marshall  was  in  the  hall,  reading, 
when  he  came  out  from  breakfast.  She  was  waiting,  she  said,  for  Mrs. 
Withers  to  come  down.  The  nurse  was  dressing  the  children. 

"  I  want  to  ask  you  something,  Captain  Lane.  I  saw  Mrs.  Vin 
cent  just  before  I  left  home,  and  had  a  little  talk  with  her.  She  has 
always  been  very  kind  to  me.  Did  you  ever  receive  a  letter  she  wrote 
to  you  three  or  four  weeks  ago  ?" 

"  I  never  did,"  said  Lane.  "  Do  you  think  that  she  did  write  to 
me?" 

"  I  know  she  did.  She  told  me  so,  and  expressed  great  surprise 
that  you  had  accorded  her  no  answer.  She  felt  very  sure  of  your 
friendship,  and  she  was  at  a  loss  to  understand  your  silence.  Although 
I  had  only  met  you  once  or  twice  before,  I  felt  that  I  knew  you  so  well 
that  you  could  not  refuse  to  answer  a  letter  from  so  lovable  a  woman  as 
she,  and  I  deemed  it  my  duty  to  let  you  know  what  she  had  told  me. 
I  am  very  glad  now  that  I  did  so." 

"  Is  she  at  home  ?"  asked  Lane,  eagerly. 

"  She  was  when  I  left,  but  they  were  expecting  to  go  to  the  moun 
tains.  Mrs.  Noel  seems  to  be  drooping  a  little.  The  weather  is  very 
warm  there  already,  as  you  know,  and  the  doctor  has  advised  that 
both  ladies  go  up  to  Deer  Park.  Mrs.  Noel  doesn't  wish  to  go,  as  it 
takes  her  so  far  from  her  husband ;  but,  as  he  was  able  to  get  there 
quite  frequently  when  they  were  there  before,  I  see  no  reason  why  he 
should  not  be  able  to  join  them  every  week  now." 

"  Was  he  there  frequently  when  they  were  there  before  ?"  asked 
Lane,  an  old,  dull  pain  gnawing  at  his  heart. 

"  He  was  there  three  or  four  times  to  my  knowledge  during  our 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  81 

stay,  but  of  course  his  visits  were  very  brief:  he  came  generally  Satur 
day  and  went  away  at  midnight  Sunday." 

"  I  will  go  and  telegraph  to  Mrs.  Vincent.  If  need  be,  I  will  go 
and  see  her ;  and  I  thank  you  very  much,  Miss  Marshall." 

That  evening  he  received  a  despatch  from  Mrs.  Vincent  in  response 
to  the  one  sent  almost  immediately  after  this  conversation.  "  If  pos 
sible,  come  here.  I  greatly  desire  to  see  you.  Wire  answer."  What 
could  it  mean  ? 

By  the  first  train  on  the  following  morning  he  left  for  New  York, 
and  was  far  on  his  way  to  the  Queen  City  when  sunset  came.  Ar 
riving  there,  he  went  first  to  the  old  hotel,  and,  after  changing  his  dress 
and  removing  the  stains  of  travel,  for  the  first  time  since  his  memora 
ble  visit  of  October  he  mounted  the  broad  stone  steps  and  asked  to  see 
Mrs.  Vincent.  She  came  down  almost  instantly,  and  Lane  was  shocked 
to  see  how  she  had  failed  since  their  last  meeting.  Years  seemed  to 
have  been  added  to  her  age ;  her  hair  was  gray ;  the  lines  in  her 
gentle,  patient  face  had  deepened.  She  entered,  holding  forth  both 
hands,  but  when  she  looked  into  his  eyes  her  lips  quivered  and  ghe 
burst  into  tears.  Lane  half  led,  half  supported  her  to  a  chair,  and, 
drawing  one  to  her  side,  spoke  soothingly  to  her.  For  a  few  moments 
she  could  not  speak,  and  when  she  did  he  checked  her. 

"  Oh,  you  too  have  aged  and  suffered  !  and  it  is  all  our  doing, — all 
our  doing !"  she  moaned,  as  her  tears  burst  forth  anew. 

"  Never  mind  my  crow's-feet  and  gray  hairs,  dear  lady,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  high  time  I  began  to  show  signs  of  advancing  age.  Then, 
too,  I  am  just  up  from  a  siege  of  mountain  fever." 

"  Was  that  the  reason  you  did  not  answer  ?"  she  presently  asked. 

"  I  never  got  your  letter,  Mrs.  Vincent.     When  was  it  mailed  ?" 

"  About  the  10th  of  May.  I  remember  it  well,  because — it  was  just 
after  Mabel  and  Captain  Noel  got  back  from  their  tour." 

"  Pardon  me,  but  did  you  post  it  yourself?" 

"  No.  The  postman  always  takes  my  letters.  I  leave  them  on  the 
little  table  in  the  vestibule." 

"  Where  any  one  can  see  them  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  who  would  touch  my  letters  ?" 

Lane  did  not  know,  of  course.  He  was  only  certain  that  nothing 
from  Mrs.  Vincent  had  reached  him  during  the  past  six  months. 

"  Captain  Lane,"  she  said,  at  last,  "  I  want  you  to  tell  me  the  truth. 
Just  after  Mabel's  marriage  I  heard  that  a  story  was  in  circulation  to 
D* 


82  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

the  effect  that  it  was  your  money  that  enabled  Mr.  Vincent  to  tide  over 
the  crisis  in  his  affairs  a  year  ago.  It  was  even  said  that  you  had  sold 
property  at  a  loss  to  supply  him  with  means ;  and  some  people  in  society 
are  so  cruel  as  to  say  that  Mabel's  trousseau  was  actually  purchased 
with  your  money,  because  it  had  never  been  repaid.  I  know  that  Mr. 
Vincent  often  spoke  of  his  obligation  and  gratitude  to  you.  Tell  me 
truly  and  frankly,  Captain  Lane :  did  you  give  my  husband  money  ? 
Is  this  story  true  ?" 

"  I  never  gave  Mr.  Vincent  a  cent." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  thankful !  We  have  been  the  means  of  bringing 
such  sorrow  to  you " 

"  I  beg  you,  make  no  reference  to  that,  Mrs.  Vincent.  Neither  your 
honored  husband  nor  you  have  I  ever  thought  in  the  least  responsible. 
And  as  for  this  other  matter,  you  have  been  misinformed." 

"  What  cruel,  reckless  stories  people  tell !  It  hurt  me  terribly ; 
and  then  when  no  answer  came  to  my  letter  I  felt  that  probably  there 
was  something  in  it,  and  that  you  were  hiding  the  truth  from  me. 
Mabel  heard  it  too ;  but  she  said  that  Captain  Noel  investigated  it  at 
once  and  found  that  it  was  utterly  false.  I  could  not  be  satisfied  until 
I  had  your  own  assurance." 

"  And  now  you  have  it,"  he  said,  with  a  smile  that  shone  on  his 
worn  face  and  beamed  about  his  deep-set  eyes  like  sunshine  after  April 
showers.  "  You  are  going  to  be  advised  now,  are  you  not,  and  seek 
change  and  rest  in  the  mountains  ?" 

"  We  meant  to  go  this  week ;  but  Mrs.  Paterson,  of  Philadelphia, 
is  urging  us  to  spend  the  summer  with  her  at  the  sea-shore,  where  she 
has  a  roomy  cottage.  She  is  a  cousin  of  Captain  Noel's,  and  was  an 
intimate  friend  of  Mabel's  at  school.  That  was  where  my  daughter 
first  heard  of  him.  Oh,  I  wish — I  wish " 

And  here  once  more  Mrs.  Vincent's  tears  poured  forth,  and  it  was 
some  time  before  she  could  control  herself. 

At  last  the  captain  felt  that  he  must  go.  It  was  now  his  purpose  to 
leave  town  as  soon  as  he  could  attend  to  one  or  two  matters  of  business. 

"  Shall  I  not  see  you  again  ?"  she  asked,  as  he  rose  to  take  his  leave. 

"  I  fear  not,"  he  answered.  "  There  is  nothing  to  require  more 
than  an  hour  or  two  of  attention  here,  and  then  I  shall  seek  a  cooler 
spot  for  a  few  weeks'  rest,  then  back  to  the  regiment." 

"  But  we — that  is,  I  heard  you  had  three  months'  sick-leave." 

"  Very  true ;  but  I  only  need  one,  and  I  am  best  with  my  troop." 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  83 

"  Tell  me,"  she  asked  :  "  is  it  true  that  there  is  trouble  brewing  again 
among  the  Indians, — at  San  Carlos,  isn't  it?" 

"  There  seems  to  be  bad  blood  among  them,  and  no  doubt  disaffec 
tion  ;  but  if  sufficient  troops  are  sent  to  the  Agency  and  to  scout  around 
the  reservation  they  can  be  held  in  check." 

"  But  I  have  been  told  that  you  have  too  small  a  force  to  watch 
them.  I  wish  you  were  not  going  back ;  but  it  is  like  you,  Captain 
Lane." 

And  so  they  parted.  He  saw  and  heard  and  asked  nothing  of  his 
whilom  fiancee.  He  did  not  wish  to  see  her  husband.  He  meant  to 
have  left  town  that  very  evening,  after  brief  consultation  with  a  real- 
estate  agent  whom  he  had  had  occasion  to  employ  in  his  service ;  but 
even  as  he  was  stowing  his  travel  ling-"  kit"  in  a  roomy  leather  bag 
there  came  a  knock  at  his  door  and  there  entered  a  man  in  plain  civilian 
dress,  who  motioned  the  bell-boy  to  clear  out,  and  then  held  forth  a 
photograph : 

"  Captain  Lane,  is  that  your  man  Taiutor  ?" 

"  Tfcat  is  certainly  like  the  man,"  was  Lane's  answer,  after  careful 
inspection.  "  Have  you  got  him  ?" 

"  No,  sir.  We  had  him,  and  took  Captain  Noel  to  see  him,  and  the 
captain  said  there  was  some  mistake.  He  wears  his  hair  and  beard 
different  now ;  but  we  know  where  he  is, — at  least,  where  he  was  up  to 
yesterday.  He  left  his  lodgings  at  noon,  and  took  a  bag  with  him,  as 
though  he  meant  to  be  away  a  few  days.  He  does  copying  and  type 
writing,  and  manages  to  get  along  and  support  a  good-looking  young 
woman  who  passes  as  his  wife.  That's  what  we  think  brought  him 
back  here  last  winter." 

"Why  didn't  you  take  some  of  the  recruiting-party  to  see  him? 
They  could  identify  him." 

"  All  the  old  men  that  were  with  you  are  gone,  sir.  It's  a  new  lot 
entirely.  They  said  the  sergeant  couldn't  get  along  with  the  captain 
at  all,  and  they  were  all  sent  away." 

"  Where's  the  woman  who  kept  the  lodging-house  for  the  party  ?" 

"She's  gone  too,  sir.  They  moved  away  last  winter  because  Cap 
tain  Noel  gave  the  contract  to  another  party  in  a  different  part  of  the 
town.  We  let  the  thing  slide  for  quite  a  while;  but  when  the  Chief 
heard  that  you  had  arrived  in  town  he  thought  he'd  shadow  the  fellow 
until  you  could  see  him,  but  he  had  skipped.  Was  there  any  way  he 
could  have  heard  you  were  coming  ?" 


84  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

"  No.  I  telegraphed  from  West  Point  to  Mrs.  Vincent.  She  was 
the  only  one  who  knew." 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,  but  isn't  that  Captain  Noel's  mother-in-law  ? 
The  captain  lives  there,  I  think." 

Lane  turned  sharply  and  studied  the  man's  face.  A  question  was 
at  his  very  tongue's  end, — "  You  do  not  suppose  he  could  have  given 
warning  ?" — but  he  stifled  it,  his  lips  compressing  tight. 

"  If  you  think  he  has  gone  because  of  my  coming,  I  will  leave  on 
the  late  train,  as  I  purposed,  and  you  can  wire  to  me  when  he  returns. 
Then  keep  him  shadowed  until  I  get  here." 

And  with  this  understanding  they  parted,  Lane  going  at  once  to  a 
cool  resort  on  one  of  the  great  lakes.  Four  days  later  came  the  de 
spatch  he  looked  for,  and,  accompanied  by  two  detectives,  Lane  knocked 
at  the  indicated  door-way  one  bright,  sunshiny  afternoon  within  forty- 
eight  hours  thereafter. 

A  comely  young  woman  opened  the  door  just  a  few  inches  and  in 
quired  what  was  wanted.  "  Mr.  Graves  was  not  at  home."  He  cer 
tainly  would  not  have  been  in  a  minute  more,  for  a  man  swung  out  of 
the  third-story  window,  and,  going  hand  by  hand  down  the  convenient 
lightning-rod,  dropped  into  the  arms  of  a  waiting  officer,  and  that  night 
the  forger  and  deserter  spent  behind  the  bars  in  the  Central  Station. 
The  identification  was  complete. 

Lane  was  to  appear  and  make  formal  charge  against  him  the  follow 
ing  morning.  Going  down  to  an  early  breakfast,  he  picked  up  one  of 
the  great  dailies  at  the  news-stand,  and,  after  taking  his  seat  at  table 
and  ordering  a  light  repast,  he  opened  the  still  moist  sheet.  The  first 
glance  at  the  head-lines  was  enough  to  start  him  to  his  feet.  "  Indian 
Outbreak."  t(  The  Apaches  on  the  War-Path."  "  Murder  of  Agent 
Curtis  at  San  Carlos."  "  Massacre  of  a  Stage-Load  of  Passengers." 
"  Captain  Rawlius,  Eleventh  Cavalry,  a  victim."  "  Horrible  Atroci 
ties."  "  Troops  in  Pursuit." 

It  was  the  old,  old  story  briefly  told.  Warnings  disregarded ; 
official  reports  of  the  neighboring  troop-commanders  pooh-poohed  and 
pigeon-holed  by  functionaries  of  the  Indian  Bureau  ;  a  sudden,  startling 
rush  of  one  body  upon  the  agent  and  his  helpless  family ;  a  simulta 
neous  dash  from  the  other  end  of  the  reservation  upon  the  scattered 
ranches  in  the  valley;  a  stage-coach  ambushed;  a  valued  old  soldier 
butchered  in  cold  blood.  There  was  no  more  thought  of  breakfast  for 
Lane.  He  hurried  to  the  telegraph-office,  thence  to  the  police-station, 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  85 

thence  to  an  attorney  whom  he  was  advised  to  employ,  and  by  noon 
he  was  whirling  westward.  "  No  laggard  he"  when  the  war-cry  rang 
along  the  blazing  border. 

XIII. 

The  Morning  Chronicle,  a  most  valuable  sheet  in  its  way,  in  its 
Sunday  edition  contained  the  following  interesting  item  : 

"  No  event  in  social  circles  has  eclipsed  of  late  the  banquet  given  at 
the  club  last  night  in  honor  of  Captain  Gordon  Noel,  of  the  Eleventh 
Cavalry,  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  to  take  command  of  his  troop,  now 
hastening  to  the  scene  of  Indian  hostilities  in  Arizona.  As  is  well 
known  to  our  citizens,  the  news  of  the  murderous  outbreak  at  the 
reservation  was  no  sooner  received  than  this  gallant  officer  applied 
instantly  to  be  relieved  from  his  present  duties  in  our  midst  and  ordered 
to  join  his  comrades  in  the  field,  that  he  might  share  with  them  the 
perils  of  this  savage  warfare. 

"  Covers  were  laid  for  forty.  The  table  was  decorated  with  flowers 
and  glistened  with  plate  and  crystal.  The  most  conspicuous  device  was 
the  crossed  sabres  of  the  cavalry,  with  the  number  11  and  the  letter 
K,  that  being  the  designation  of  the  captain's  company.  His  honor 
Mayor  Jenness  presided,  and  the  Hon.  Amos  Withers  faced  him  at  the 
other  end  of  the  banquet-board.  The  speech  of  the  evening  was  made 
by  Mayor  Jenness  in  toasting  'our  gallant  guest/  which  was  drunk 
standing  and  with  all  honors.  We  have  room  only  for  a  brief  sum 
mary  of  his  remarks.  Alluding  to  the  previous  distinguished  services 
of  the  captain,  he  said  that  '  In  every  Territory  of  our  broad  West  his 
sabre  has  flashed  in  the  defence  of  the  weak  against  the  strong,  the 
poor  settler  against  the  powerful  and  numerous  savage  tribes  too  often 
backed  by  official  influence  at  Washington.  And  now,  while  cheeks 
were  blanching  and  hearts  were  still  stricken  by  the  dread  news  of  the 
butcheries  and  rapine  which  marked  the  Indians'  flight,  when  others 
shrank  from  such  perilous  work,  where  was  the  man  who  could  sup 
press  the  fervent  admiration  with  which  he  heard  that  there  was  one 
soldier  who  lost  no  time  in  demanding  relief  from  duty  here,  that  he 
might  speed  to  the  head  of  the  gallant  fellows  already  in  the  field,  who 
had  followed  him  in  many  a  stirring  charge  and  through  all  "  the  cur 
rent  of  many  a  heady  fight ;"  whose  hearts  would  leap  for  joy  at  sight  of 
their  beloved  leader's  face, — the  man  who  never  yet  had  failed  them, 
the  man  who  never  yet  had  faltered  in  his  duty,  the  man  whose  sword 

8 


86  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

was  never  drawn  without  reason,  never  sheathed  without  honor, — our 
soldier  guest,  Captain  Gordon  Noel  ?' 

"  Much  affected,  it  was  some  minutes  before  the  captain  could  respond. 
The  modesty  of  the  true  soldier  restrained  his  eloquence.  '  He  knew 
not  how  to  thank  them  for  this  most  flattering  testimony  of  their  con 
fidence  and  regard ;  he  far  from  deserved  the  lavish  praise  of  their 
honored  chairman.  If  in  the  past  he  had  succeeded  in  winning  their 
esteem,  all  the  more  would  he  try  to  merit  it  now.  No  soldier  could 
remain  in  security  when  such  desperate  deeds  called  his  comrades  to 
the  fray ;  and  as  he  had  ever  shared  their  dangers  in  the  old  days,  so 
must  he  share  them  now.  His  heart,  his  home,  his  bride,  to  part  from 
whom  was  bitter  trial,  he  left  with  them  to  guard  and  cherish.  Duty 
called  him  to  the  front,  and  with  to-morrow's  sun  he  would  be  on  his 
way.  But,  if  it  pleased  God  to  bear  him  safely  through,  he  would 
return  to  them,  to  greet  and  grasp  each  friendly  hand  again,  and  mean 
time  to  prove  himself  worthy  the  high  honor  they  had  done  him.' 

"  There  was  hardly  a  dry  eye  at  the  table  when  the  gallant  soldier 
finished  his  few  remarks  and  then  took  his  seat. 

"  Besides  winning  the  heart  and  hand  of  one  of  the  loveliest  of  the 
Queen  City's  daughters,  the  captain  has  made  hosts  of  friends  in  our 
midst,  and  we  predict  that  when  the  records  of  the  campaign  are  written 
no  name  will  shine  with  brighter  lustre  than  that  of  Gordon  Noel." 

This  doubtless  was  delightful  reading  to  Noel  and  to  Noel's  rela 
tives.  Doubtless,  too,  it  was  some  comfort  to  poor  Mabel  as  she  lay 
pale,  anxious,  sore  at  heart  on  the  following  day,  while  her  husband 
and  lover — as  he  undoubtedly  was — sped  westward  with  the  fast 
express.  But  there  was  a  great  deal  about  the  Chronicle's  account 
that  would  have  elicited  something  more  than  a  broad  grin  from 
officers  who  knew  Noel  well. 

An  entire  week  had  elapsed  from  the  time  that  the  first  tidings 
were  received  to  the  moment  when  he  finally  and  most  reluctantly  left 
the  Queen  City.  The  first  intimation  was  enough  to  start  Captain 
Lane,  despite  the  fact  that  his  health  was  far  from  restored  and  that  he 
was  yet  by  no  means  strong.  He  felt  confident  that  the  Indians  would 
be  joined  by  some  of  the  Chiricahuas,  and  that  the  campaign  would 
be  fierce  and  stubborn.  Telegraphing  to  the  regimental  adjutant  and 
the  general  commanding  the  department  that  he  intended  to  start  at 
once,  and  asking  to  be  notified  en  route  where  he  could  most  speedily 
join  the  troop,  he  was  on  his  way  within  six  hours. 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  87 

That  very  night,  although  no  mention  was  made  of  this  in  the 
Chronicle  account,  Captain  Noel  received  a  despatch  from  the  Adju 
tant-General's  Office  at  Washington  briefly  to  this  effect :  "  You  become 
Captain  of  K  Company,  vice  Rawlins,  murdered  by  Apaches.  Hold 
yourself  in  readiness  to  turn  over  the  rendezvous  and  join  your  regi 
ment  without  delay."  No  news  could  have  been  more  unwelcome. 
Despite  his  many  faults,  there  was  no  question  that  Gordon  Noel  was 
very  much  in  love  with  his  wife  ;  but  he  never  had  been  in  love  with 
the  active  part  of  his  profession.  That  night  he  telegraphed  to  relatives 
who  had  stood  by  him  in  the  past,  and  wrote  urgent  and  pleading 
letters  informing  them  that  his  wife's  health  was  in  so  delicate  a  state 
that  if  he  were  compelled  at  this  moment  to  leave  her  and  to  go  upon 
perilous  duty  in  the  Apache  country  there  was  no  telling  what  might 
be  the  effect  upon  her.  If  a  possible  thing,  he  urged  that  there  should 
be  a  delay  of  a  fortnight.  He  calculated  that  by  that  time  the  Indians 
would  either  be  safe  across  the  Mexican  border  or  whipped  back  to  the 
reservation  ;  then  he  could  go  out  and  join  with  a  flourish  of  trumpets 
and  no,  possible  danger.  But  a  new  king  reigned  in  the  War  Depart 
ment,  who  knew  Joseph  rather  than  knew  him  not.  In  some  way  the 
honorable  Secretary  had  become  acquainted  with  the  previous  history 
of  Captain  Noel's  campaign  services,  and,  though  the  influential  gen 
tlemen  referred  to  made  prompt  and  eloquent  appeal,  they  were  met  by 
courteous  but  positive  denial.  "  Every  man  who  was  worth  his  salt," 
said  the  Secretary,  "  should  be  with  his  regiment  now."  An  officer 
was  designated  to  proceed  at  once  to  the  Queen  City  and  take  over 
Noel's  rendezvous  and  property,  and  peremptory  orders  were  sent  to 
him  to  start  without  delay  and  to  notify  the  department  by  telegraph 
of  the  date  of  his  departure, — a  most  unusual  and  stringent  proceed 
ing.  This  correspondence  Noel  never  mentioned  to  anybody  at  the 
time,  and  it  was  known  only  to  the  official  records  for  some  time  after 
wards.  As  soon  as  he  found  that  go  he  must,  he  dictated  to  his  clerk 
a  letter  in  which,  gallant  soldier  that  he  was,  he  informed  the  Adjutant- 
General  that  the  news  from  Arizona  had  now  convinced  him  that  an 
outbreak  of  alarming  dimensions  had  taken  place,  and  he  begged  that 
he  might  be  relieved  as  at  his  own  request  and  permitted  to  join  his 
comrades  in  the  field.  To  this  no  reply  was  sent,  as  the  order  directing 
him  to  proceed  had  already  been  issued.  Perhaps  a  grim  smile  played 
about  the  moustached  lips  of  that  functionary  when  he  read  this  spirited 
epistle. 


88  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

Noel  left  the  Queen  "City  a  hero  in  the  eyes  of  the  populate.  He 
was  just  six  days  behind  Lane,  of  whose  movements  the  Queen  City 
had  no  information  whatever. 

And  now  came  an  odd  piece  of  luck, — a  slip  in  the  fortunes  of  war. 
The  cavalry  stationed  in  Arizona  were  so  far  from  the  reservation  at  the 
time  that  they  had  long  and  difficult  marches  to  make.  Only  two  or 
three  troops  that  happened  to  be  along  the  line  of  the  railway  reached 
the  mountains  neighboring  San  Carlos  in  time  to  quickly  take  the  trail 
of  the  hostiles.  Except  the  one  little  troop  of  cavalry  on  duty  at  the 
reservation,  none  of  the  horsemen  in  Arizona  had  as  yet  come  in  actual 
conflict  with  the  renegades,  and,  oddly  enough,  it  was  the  Eleventh 
that  first  met  and  struck  them.  Old  Riggs  himself  had  not  taken  the 
field,  but  the  battalion  from  head-quarters  had  been  whirled  westward 
along  the  railway  and  actually  reached  the  pass  through  the  Chiricahua 
Range  before  the  Indians.  Expecting  just  such  a  possibility,  these 
wary  campaigners  had  their  scouts  far  in  advance  of  the  main  body, 
and  prompt  warning  was  given,  so  that  only  the  rear-guard  of  the 
Indians  was  reached  by  the  eager  cavalrymen  ;  the  bulk  of  the  Apaches 
turned  eastward  and  swept  down  like  ravening  wolves  upon  the 
defenceless  settlers  in  the  San  Simon  Valley,  burning,  murdering,  pil 
laging  as  they  went,  full  fifty  miles  a  day,  while  their  pursuers  trailed 
helplessly  behind.  When  they  had  succeeded  in  crossing  the  railway 
most  of  their  number  were  mounted  on  fresh  horses,  and  the  section- 
hands,  who  saw  them  from  afar  off,  telegraphed  from  the  nearest  station 
that  they  had  with  them  six  or  eight  women  and  children  whose  hus 
bands  and  fathers  doubtless  lay  weltering  in  their  blood  along  the  route. 
Full  seven  days  now  had  they  been  dodging  through  the  mountains 
and  swooping  down  upon  the  ranchmen,  and  so  skilfully  had  they 
eluded  their  pursuers  and  defeated  their  combinations  that  now  they 
had  a  commanding  lead  and  actually  nothing  between  them  and 
the  Mexican  frontier, — nothing  in  Arizona,  that  is  to  say.  But  look  just 
across  the  border.  There,  spurring  steadily  south  westward  until  halted 
for  the  night  in  San  Simon  Pass,  comes  a  little  troop  of  cavalry,  not 
more  than  thirty-five  in  number.  All  day  long  since  earliest  dawn  had 
they  ridden  across  the  burning  sands  of  a  desert  region  ;  lips,  nostrils, 
eyelids  smarting  with  alkali-dust,  throats  parched  with  thirst,  temples 
throbbing  with  the  intense  heat ;  several  men  and  horses  used  up  and 
left  behind  were  now  slowly  plodding  back  towards  the  railway.  Look 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  89 

at  the  letter  one  of  those  leaders  wears  upon  his  worn  old  scouting-hat, 
— D.  Yes,  it  is  the  "  Devil's  own  D's,"  and  Lane  is  at  their  head. 

At  the  moment  of  the  outbreak,  both  companies  from  Graham, 
K  and  D,  or  strong  detachments  from  both,  were  scouting  through  the 
country, — one  throirgh  the  northern  Peloncillo  Range,  the  other  far  up 
among  the  head-waters  of  the  Gila.  Not  a  word  did  they  hear  of  the 
trouble  until  it  was  several  days  old ;  then  D  Troop  was  amazed  by 
the  sudden  appearance  of  their  captain  in  their  midst, — Lane,  whom 
they  supposed  to  be  on  sick-leave  far  in  the  distant  East.  It  was  then 
for  the  first  time  they  learned  how  their  comrades  of  K  Troop  had  lost 
their  popular  old  commander,  and  that  the  great  outbreak  had  occurred 
at  San  Carlos.  Stopping  only  long  enough  to  cram  their  pouches  with 
ammunition  and  to  draw  more  rations,  the  troop  hastened  away  towards 
the  railroad  by  way  of  Graham,  and  at  the  station,  just  at  dawn,  Lane 
sent  a  brief  despatch  to  the  commanding  general  saying  that  he  was 
pushing  with  all  speed  to  head  the  Indians  off  via  San  Simon  Pass. 
He  had  then  forty-five  men  and  horses,  in  fair  condition.  K  Troop 
would  ijeach  Graham  that  evening,  and  he  urged  that  they  be  sent  at 
once  to  reinforce  him.  This  despatch  "  the  Chief"  received  with  an 
emphatic  slap  of  his  thigh  and  an  expression  of  delight :  "  Bless  that 
fellow  Lane !  he  is  always  in  the  nick  of  time.  I  had  not  hoped  for 
an  instant  that  either  I)  or  K  would  be  available,  and  now  look,"  he 
said  to  his  aide-de-camp,  "  he  has  started  for  San  Simon  Pass,  and  will 
probably  throw  himself  across  their  front.  Only  I  wish  he  had  more 
men." 

"Shall  I  wire  to  Graham  to  have  K  rush  after  him,  sir?" 

"  Yes.  Order  them  to  start  the  instant  they  can  refit,  and  not  to 
take  more  than  an  hour  in  doing  that.  They  have  been  having  easy 
work  on  their  scout, — probably  taking  it  leisurely  all  the  time ;  they 
ought  to  be  in  first-rate  trim.  D,  on  the  contrary,  has  been  making 
long  and  rapid  marches  to  get  down  from  the  Upper  Gila.  Where 
was  K  at  last  accounts  ?" 

"  Couriers  had  gone  to  the  Upper  Peloncillo  for  them  several  days 
ago,  and,  as  Lane  says,  they  are  expected  at  Graham  this  evening. 
Lane,  himself,  rode  after  his  own  men  two  hours  after  he  got  to  the 
post  from  the  East,  and  Noel,  who  is  K's  new  captain,  is  due  at  Graham 
Station  to-night." 

"  Then  send  him  orders  to  lead  his  troop  instantly,  follow  and  sup- 

8* 


90  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

port  Lane.  Tell  him  not  to  lose  a  moment  on  the  way.  Everything 
may  depend  upon  his  promptness  and  zeal." 

And  so  it  happened  that  when  Captain  Noel  stepped  from  the  train 
that  afternoon  at  the  old  station  the  telegraph  messenger  came  forward 
to  meet  him,  touching  his  cap  and  saying,  "  This  despatch  has  been 
awaiting  you,  sir,  since  eleven  o'clock  this  morning.  I  have  just  had 
a  despatch  from  the  post,  and  K  Troop  got  in  two  hours  ago  and  is 
already  starting.  Lieutenant  Mason  says  an  orderly  is  coming  ahead 
with  a  horse  and  the  captain's  field-kit.  Shall  I  wire  for  anything 
else?" 

Noel  opened  the  despatch  which  had  been  handed  him,  and  read  it 
with  an  expression  that  plainly  indicated  perturbation,  if  not  dismay. 
He  had  not  been  in  saddle  for  an  entire  year. 

"  Why,  I  must  go  out  to  the  post !"  he  said  to  the  operator.  "  I  am 
not  at  all  ready  to  take  the  field.  Let  them  know  that  I  have  arrived, 
and  will  come  out  there  without  delay.  Better  have  the  troop  unsaddled 
and  wait  for  my  coming." 

"Will  the  captain  pardon  me?"  said  the  operator;  "the  orders 
from  the  Department  commander  that  went  through  this  morning  were 
that  the  troop  should  not  take  more  than  an  hour  in  refitting  at  the 
post  and  should  start  at  once.  I  thought  I  could  see  them  coming 
over  the  divide  just  as  the  whistle  blew." 

The  captain's  face  gave  no  sign  of  enthusiasm  as  he  received  this 
news.  He  was  still  pondering  over  the  contents  of  his  despatch  from 
the  commanding  general, — its  tone  was  so  like  that  of  his  order  from 
the  War  Department, — so  utterly  unlike  what  his  admiring  circle  of 
relatives  and  friends  would  have  expected.  Stepping  into  the  telegraph- 
office,  he  took  some  blanks  and  strove  to  compose  a  despatch  that  would 
convince  the  general  that  he  was  wild  with  eagerness  to  ride  all  night 
to  the  support  of  Lane,  and  yet  that  would  explain  how  absolutely 
necessary  it  was  that  he  should  first  go  out  to  the  post.  But  the  Fates 
were  against  him.  Even  as  he  was  gnawing  the  pencil  and  cudgelling 
his  brains,  the  operator  called  out, — 

"  Here  come  some  of  'em  now,  sir." 

And,  looking  nervously  from  the  window,  Noel  saw  three  horsemen 
galloping  in  to  the  station.  Foremost  came  a  lieutenant  of  infantry, 
who  sprang  to  the  ground  and  tossed  the  reins  to  his  orderly  the  instant 
he  neared  the  platform.  One  of  the  men  had  a  led  horse,  completely 
equipped  for  the  field,  with  blankets,  saddle-bags,  carbine  canteen,  and 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  91 

haversack ;  and  Noel's  quick  intuition  left  him  no  room  to  believe  that 
the  steed  was  intended  for  any  one  but  him. 

The  infantryman  came  bounding  in  :  "  Is  this  Captain  Noel  ?  I 
am  Mr.  Renshaw,  post-adjutant,  sir,  and  I  had  hoped  to  get  here  in 
time  to  meet  you  on  your  arrival,  but  we  were  all  busy  getting  the  troop 
ready.  You've  got  your  orders,  sir,  haven't  you  ?  My  God  !  captain, 
can't  you  wire  to  the  fort  and  beg  the  major  to  let  me  go  with  you? 
I'll  be  your  slave  for  a  lifetime.  I've  never  had  a  chance  to  do  a  bit 
of  real  campaigning  yet,  and  no  man  could  ask  a  bullier  chance  than 
this.  Excuse  me,  sir,  I  know  you  want  to  get  right  into  scouting  rig, 
— Mr.  Mason  said  his  '  extras'  would  fit  you  exactly, — but  if  you  could 
take  me  along — you're  bound  to  get  there  just  in  time  for  the  thick  of 
it."  And  the  gallant  little  fellow  looked,  all  eagerness,  into  Noel's  un 
responsive  face.  What  wouldn't  the  hero  of  the  Queen  City  Club  have 
given  to  turn  the  whole  thing  over  to  this  ambitious  young  soldier  and 
let  him  take  his  chances  of  "glory  or  the  grave"  ! 

"Very  thoughtful  of  you  all,  I'm  sure,  to  think  of  sending  horse 
and  kit  Jbere  for  me,  but  I  really  ought  to  go  out  to  the  post.  There 
are  things  I  must  attend  to.  You  see,  I  left  the  instant  I  could  induce 
them  to  relieve  me,  and  there  was  no  time  to  make -preparations." 

"  But — you  can't  have  heard,  captain  :  your  troop  will  be  here  in 
ten  minutes.  Captain  Lane  by  this  time  is  past  Pyramid  Mountain, 
and  will  strike  them  early  in  the  morning.  There  won't  be  any  time 
to  go  out  to  the  post :  you've  got  to  ride  at  trot  or  gallop  most  of  the 
night  as  it  is " 

"  Captain  Noel,  pardon  me,  sir,"  interposed  the  operator.  "  The 
general  is  in  the  office  at  Wilcox  Station.  He  wants  to  know  if  you 
have  started  from  here." 

"  Tell  him  the  troop  isn't  here  yet.     I — I'm  waiting  for  it." 

"  Yonder  comes  the  troop,  sir,"  called  out  Mr.  Renshaw,  who  had 
run  to  the  door.  "  Now  let  me  help  you  off  with  your  '  cits.'  Bring 
that  canvas  bag  in  here,  orderly.-' 

Three  minutes  brought  a  message  from  "the  Chief:"  "Lose  not  a 
moment  on  the  way.  Report  here  by  wire  the  arrival  of  your  troop 
and  the  moment  you  start.  Behind  time  now." 

Poor  Noel !  There  was  no  surgeon  to  certify  that  his  pallid  cheeks 
were  due  to  impaired  heart-action,  no  senatorial  cousin  to  beg  for  staff 
duty,  no  Mrs.  Riggs  to  interpose.  He  had  just  time  to  send  a  despatch 
to  Mabel  announcing  that  he  took  the  field  at  the  head  of  his  troop  at 


92  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

once,  another  (collect)  to  Amos  Withers,  Esq.,  of  similar  import,  and 
one  to  the  general,  saying  that  at  4.45  they  were  just  on  the  point  of 
starting,  when  the  troop,  fifty  strong  and  in  splendid  trim,  came  trot 
ting  in,  and  Mr.  Mason  grimly  saluted  his  new  captain  and  fell  back 
to  the  command  of  the  first  platoon. 

"  Noel  to  the  Front !"  was  the  Chronicle's  head-line  on  the  follow 
ing  morning  far  away  in  the  Queen  City. 

XIV. 

Not  an  instant  too  soon,  although  he  has  ridden  hard  since  earliest 
dawn,  has  Lane  reached  the  rocky  pass.  North  and  south  the  Pelon- 
cillos  are  shrouded  in  the  gloom  of  coming  night,  and  all  over  the  arid 
plain  to  the  eastward  darkness  has  settled  down.  In  previous  scouts 
he  has  learned  the  country  well,  and  he  knows  just  where  to  turn  for 
"  tanks"  of  cool  water  for  horses,  mules,  and  men, — the  cavalry  order 
of  precedence  when  creature  comforts  are  to  be  doled  out.  He  knows 
just  where  to  conceal  his  little  force  in  the  recesses  of  the  rocks  and 
let  them  build  tiny  fires  and  make  their  coffee  and  then  get  such  rest 
as  is  possible  before  the  coming  day;  but  there  is  no  rest  for  him. 
Taking  two  veteran  soldiers  with  him,  and  leaving  the  troop  to  the 
command  of  his  lieutenant,  an  enthusiastic  young  soldier  only  a  year 
out  of  the  cadet  gray,  the  captain  rides  westward  through  the  gloam 
ing.  He  must  determine  at  once  whether  the  Indians  are  coming  to 
wards  the  pass  by  which  the  San  Simon  makes  its  burst  through  the 
range,  or  whether,  having  made  wide  detour  around  the  little  post  at 
Bowie  among  the  Chiricahua  Mountains,  they  are  now  heading  south 
ward  again  and  taking  the  shortest  line  to  the  border  before  seeking  to 
regain  once  more  their  old  trail  along  the  San  Bernardino.  How  often 
have  their  war-parties  gone  to  and  fro  along  those  rocky  banks,  un 
molested,  unpursued ! 

And  now,  secure  in  the  belief  that  they  have  thrown  all  the 
cavalry  far  to  the  rear  in  the  "  stern-chase"  which  no  Apache  dreads, 
well  knowing  how  easily  he  can  distance  his  hampered  pursuers,  the 
renegades,  joined  by  a  gang  of  the  utterly  "  unreconstructed"  Chiri- 
cahuas,  are  taking  things  easily  and  making  raids  on  the  helpless 
ranches  that  lie  to  the  right  or  left  of  their  line  of  march.  For 
tunately  for  the  records,  these  are  few  in  number;  had  there  been 
dozens  more  they  would  only  have  served  to  swell  the  list  of  butchered 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  93 

iiien,  of  plundered  ranches,  of  burning  stacks  and  corrals,  of  women 
and  children  borne  off  to  be  the  sport  of  their  leisure  hours  when 
once  secure  in  the  fastnesses  of  the  Sierra  Madres  far  south  of  the 
line.  Death  could  not  too  soon  come  to  the  relief  of  these  poor  creat 
ures,  and  Lane  and  all  his  men  had  been  spurred  to  the  utmost  effort 
by  the  story  of  the  railway-hands  that  they  had  plainly  seen  several 
women  and  children  bound  to  the  spare  animals  the  renegades  drove 
along  across  the  iron  track. 

Among  the  passengers  in  the  pillaged  stage-coach  were  the  wife  and 
daughter  of  an  Indian  agent,  who  had  only  recently  come  to  this 
arid  Territory  and  knew  little  of  the  ways  of  its  indigenous  people. 
Nothing  had  since  been  seen  or  heard  of  them.  Captain  Rawlins 
and  two  soldiers  going  up  as  witnesses  before  a  court-martial  at  Grant 
were  found  hacked  almost  beyond  recognition,  and  the  driver  too,  who 
seemed  to  have  crawled  out  among  the  rocks  to  die.  Verily  the 
Apaches  had  good  reason  to  revel  in  their  success !  They  had 
hoodwinked  the  Bureau,  dodged  the  cavalry,  plundered  right  and  left 
until  thej-  were  rich  with  spoil,  and  now,  well  to  the  south  of  the  rail 
way,  with  a  choice  of  either  east  or  west  side  of  the  range,  their  main 
body  and  prisoners  are  halted  to  rest  the  animals,  while  miles  to  the 
rear  their  faithful  vedettes  keep  watch  against  pursuers,  and  miles  out 
to  the  west  the  most  active  young  warriors  are  crying  havoc  at  the 
ranch  of  Tres  Hermanos.  It  is  the  red  glare  of  the  flame  towards 
the  sunset  herizon  that  tells  Lane  the  Apaches  cannot  be  far  away. 
The  instant  he  and  his  comrades  issue  from  the  gorge  and  peer  cau 
tiously  to  the  right  and  left,  not  only  do  they  see  the  blaze  across  the 
wide  valley,  but  northward,  not  more  than  half  a  mile  away,  there  rises 
upon  the  night-wind  a  sound  that  they  cannot"  mistake, — the  war-chant 
of  the  Chiricahuas. 

"  Thank  God,"  cries  Lane,  "  we  are  here  ahead  of  them  !" 
Half  an  hour's  reconnoissance  reveals  to  him  their  position.  Fai 
up  among  the  boulders  of  the  range,  where  pursuing  horsemen  cannot 
rush  upon  them  in  the  night,  they  have  made  their  bivouac,  and  are 
having  a  revel  and  feast  while  awaiting  the  return  of  the  raiders  or  news 
from  the  rear  that  they  must  be  moving.  The  range  is  rugged  and  pre 
cipitous  north  of  the  gorge ;  cavalry  cannot  penetrate  it ;  but  Lane's 
plan  is  quickly  laid.  He  will  let  his  men  sleep  until  two  o'clock,  keep 
ing  only  three  sentries  on  the  lookout,  one  of  them  mounted  and  west 
«f  the  gorge  to  give  warning  should  the  Indians  move  during  the  night. 


94  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

Then,  leaving  the  horses  concealed  among  the  rocks  south  of  the  stream, 
with  two  men  to  guard  them,  he  will  lead  his  company  up  the  heights 
and  as  close  as  possible  to  the  Apache  cainp,  lie  in  hiding  until  it 
is  light  enough  to  distinguish  objects,  then  dash  down  into  their  midst, 
rescue  the  prisoners  in  the  panic  and  confusion  that  he  knows  will  result 
from  the  sudden  attack,  send  them  back  as  rapidly  as  possible,  guided 
by  three  or  four  men,  to  where  his  horses  are  corralled,  while  he  and 
his  little  band  interpose  between  them  and  any  rally  the  Apaches  may 
make. 

Knowing  well  that  they  are  armed  with  magazine  rifles  and  supplied 
by  a  paternal  Bureau  with  abundant  ammunition,  knowing  that  they 
outnumber  him  three  to  one,  knowing  that  by  sunrise  the  whole  tribe 
will  have  reassembled  and  must  infallibly  detect  the  pitiful  weakness 
of  his  own  force,  it  is  a  desperate  chance  to  take ;  but  it  is  the  only  one 
— absolutely  the  only  one — to  save  those  tortured,  agonized  women,  those 
terror-stricken  little  ones,  from  a  fate  more  awful  than  words  can  portray. 

By  eight  or  nine  in  the  morning,  he  argues,  K  Troop  must  certainly 
reach  him ;  he  knows  them  to  be  fresh  and  strong,  he  knows  that  they 
have  had  only  short  and  easy  marches  and  therefore  can  easily  come 
ahead  all  night  long  and  be  rounding  the  Pyramid  Spur  by  daybreak. 
He  knows  Mason  well,  and  can  count  on  that  young  officer's  doing  his 
"  level  best"  to  support  him.  Alas  !  he  does  not  know  that  Mason  is 
compelled  by  this  time  to  fall  back  to  second  place,  and  that  the  last 
man  on  whom  he  can  possibly  count  "  in  a  pinch"  is  now  in  command 
of  the  looked-for  troop. 

The  night  wears  on  without  alarm.  "Well-nigh  exhausted,  Lane 
has  thrown  himself  at  the  foot  of  a  tree  to  catch  what  sleep  he  may, 
and  he  feels  as  though  he  had  not  closed  his  eyes  when  Corporal  Shea 
bends  over  him  to  say  it  is  two  o'clock.  Noiselessly  the  men  are 
aroused ;  silently  they  roll  out  of  their  blankets,  and,  obedient  to  the 
low-toned  "  fall  in"  of  the  first  sergeant,  seize  their  arms  and  take 
their  place  in  line.  There  Lane  briefly  explains  the  situation ;  tells 
them  of  the  position  of  the  Apache  bivouac ;  details  Corporal  Riley 
and  four  men  to  search  for,  secure,  and  hie  away  with  the  prisoners, 
and  orders  all  the  rest  to  fight  like  the  devil  to  drive  the  Apaches  hel 
ter-skelter  into  the  rocks.  "  Let  not  one  word  be  said  nor  a  trigger 
pulled  until  we  are  right  among  them.  Wait  for  my  command,  unless 
we  are  detected  and  fired  on.  If  we  are,  blaze  away  at  once  ;  but  never 
stop  your  rush  :  get  right  in  among  them.  Let  Riley  and  his  men  make 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  95 

instant  search,  be  sure  they  leave  neither  woman  nor  child  behind,  and 
start  them  back  here.  The  rest  of  us  will  fall  back  slowly,  keeping  be 
tween  them  and  the  Apaches  all  the  time.  Never  let  them  get  near  those 
prisoners.  That  is  the  main  object  of  our  attack.  Once  back  here  with 
the  horses,  we  can  pick  out  places  in  the  rocks  from  which  we  can  stand 
the  Apaches  off  until  K  Troop  comes.  Rest  assured  Lieutenant  Mason 
and  his  men  will  be  along  by  eight  or  nine ;  and  it  cannot  be  that  the 
cavalry  now  pursuing  the  Apaches  from  the  north  will  be  more  than  a 
few  hours  behind.  Now,  do  you  understand  ?  for  there  will  be  no  chance 
of  orders  up  there.  Leave  your  canteens;  leave  anything  that  will  hinder 
or  rattle.  Those  of  you  who  have  on  spurs,  take  them  off.  Those  of 
you  who  have  Tonto  or  Apache  moccasins,  take  off  your  top  boots  and 
put  them  on  ;  they  are  all  the  better  for  going  up  these  hill-sides.  Now 
get  your  coffee,  men ;  make  no  noise,  light  no  additional  fires,  and  be 
ready  to  move  in  twenty  minutes." 
Then  he  pencils  this  brief  note  : 

"  Commanding  Officer  Troop  K,  Eleventh  Cavalry  : 

"  \V£  have  headed  the  Apaches,  and  will  attack  their  camp  the 
instant  it  is  light  enough  to  see,  rescue  their  captives,  then  fall  back 
here  to  the  gorge  of  the  San  Simon.  They  far  outnumber  us,  and  you 
cannot  reach  us  too  soon.  I  count  upon  your  being  here  by  eight  in 
the  morning,  and  hope  with  your  aid  to  hold  the  enemy  until  Greene's 
command  arrives.  Then  we  ought  to  capture  the  whole  band.  Do 
not  fail  me. 

"FREDERICK  LANE, 

"  Captain  Eleventh  Cavalry." 

This  he  gives  to  Sergeant  Luce  with  orders  to  ride  back  on  the  trail 
until  he  meets  K  Troop  and  deliver  it  to  Lieutenant  Mason  or  whoever 
is  in  command  ;  and  in  half  an  hour  Luce  is  away. 

And  now,  just  as  the  dawn  is  breaking  and  a  faint  pallid  light  is 
stealing  through  the  tree-tops  along  the  rocky  range,  there  come  creep 
ing  slowly,  noiselessly  along  the  slope  a  score  of  shadowy  forms,  crouch 
ing  from  boulder  to  boulder,  from  tree  to  tree.  Not  a  word  is  spoken, 
save  now  and  then  a  whispered  caution.  Foremost,  carbine  in  hand,  is 
the  captain,  now  halting  a  moment  to  give  some  signal  to  those  nearest 
him,  now  peering  ahead  over  the  rocks  that  bar  the  way.  At  last  he 
reaches  a  point  where,  looking  down  the  dark  and  rugged  hill-side 
before  him,  he  sees  something  which  causes  him  to  unsling  the  case 


96  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

in  \vhich  his  field-glasses  are  carried,  to  gaze  thither  long  and  fixedly. 
With  all  eyes  upon  their  leader,  the  men  wait  and  listen :  some 
cautiously  try  the  hammers  of  their  carbines  and  loosen  a  few  car 
tridges  in  the  loops  of  their  prairie-belts.  A  signal  from  Lane  brings 
Mr.  Royce,  the  young  second  lieutenant,  to  his  side.  It  is  the  boy's 
first  experience  of  the  kind,  and  his  heart  is  thumping,  but  he  means 
to  be  one  of  the  foremost  in  the  charge  when  the  time  comes.  Watching 
closely,  the  nearest  men  can  see  that  the  captain  is  pointing  out  some 
object  nearer  at  hand  than  they  supposed,  and  the  first  sergeant,  crouch 
ing  to  a  neighboring  rock,  looks  cautiously  over,  and  then  eagerly 
motions  to  others  to  join  him. 

The  Apache  hiding-place  is  not  three  hundred  yards  away. 

Down  the  mountain-side  to  the  west  and  up  the  range  to  the  north 
their  sentries  keep  vigilant  guard  against  surprise ;  but  what  man  of 
their  number  dreams  for  an  instant  that  on  the  south,  between  them 
and  the  Mexican  line,  there  is  now  closing  in  to  the  attack  a  little  troop 
of  veteran  campaigners,  led  by  a  man  whom  they  have  learned  to  dread 
before  now  ?  Invisible  from  the  valley  below  or  the  heights  up  the 
range,  their  smouldering  fires  can  be  plainly  seen  from  where  Lane 
and  his  men  are  now  concealed.  But  nothing  else  can  be  distinguished. 

Far  over  to  the  western  side  of  the  valley  the  faint  red  glow  tells 
where  lie  the  ruins  of  the  ranch  their  young  warriors  have  destroyed, 
and  any  moment  now  their  exultant  yells  may  be  heard  as  they  come 
scampering  back  to  camp  after  a  night  of  deviltry,  and  then  everybody 
will  be  up  and  moving  off  and  well  on  the  way  southward  before  the 
sun  gets  over  the  crest.  Lane  knows  he  must  make  his  dash  before 
they  can  return.  There  would  be  little  hope  of  rescue  for  the  poor 
souls  lying  there  bound  and  helpless,  with  all  those  fierce  young  fighters 
close  at  hand. 

The  word  is  passed  among  the  men  :  "  Follow  closely,  but  look 
well  to  your  footing.  Dislodge  no  stones."  Then,  slowly  and  stealth 
ily  as  before,  on  they  go, — this  time  down  the  hill  towards  the  faint 
lights  of  the  Indian  bivouac.  A  hundred  yards  more,  and  Lane  holds 
up  his  hand,  a  signal  to  halt ;  and  here  he  gives  Mr.  Royce  a  few 
instructions  in  a  low  tone.  The  youngster  nods  his  head  and  mutters 
to  several  of  the  men  as  he  passes,  "  Follow  me."  They  disappear 
among  the  rocks  and  trees  to  the  right,  and  it  is  evident  that  they  mean 
to  work  around  to  the  east  of  the  bivouac,  so  as  to  partially  encircle 
them.  Little  by  little  the  wan  light  grows  brighter,  and,  close  at  hand, 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  97 

objects  far  more  distinct.  An  Indian  is  just  passing  in  front  of  the 
nearest  blaze,  and  is  lost  in  the  gloom  among  the  stunted  trees.  One 
or  two  forms  are  moving  about,  but  they  can  only  dimly  be  distin 
guished.  Lane  argues,  however,  that  they  are  getting  ready  to  move, 
and  no  time  is  to  be  lost. 

"  Spread  out  now,"  is  the  order,  "  well  to  the  right  and  left,  and 
move  forward.  Be  very  careful."  And  once  more  they  resume  their 
cat-like  advance.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  creep  upon  the  unsuspecting 
foe,  and  soon  many  a  form  of  sleeping  Apache  can  be  made  out,  lying 
around  in  the  grassy  basin  in  which  they  are  hiding  for  the  night. 
Lane  motions  to  Corporal  Riley  to  come  close  to  his  side :  "  I  can 
see  nothing  that  looks  like  prisoners :  they  must  be  among  the  trees 
there,  where  that  farthest  fire  is  burning.  Keep  close  to  me  with 
your  men.  Pass  the  word  to  the  right,  there.  All  ready." 

And  now  they  are  so  near  the  Indians  that  the  voices  of  one  or  two 
squaws  can  be  heard  chatting  in  low  tones ;  then  the  feeble  wail  of  an 
infant  is  for  a  moment  brought  to  their  straining  ears ;  then  far  out 
over  thje  level  valley  to  the  west  there  is  a  sound  that  causes  Lane's 
blood  to  tingle, — faint,  distant,  but  unmistakable, — a  chorus  of  Apache 
yells.  The  raiders  are  coming  back :  it  is  time  to  strike  the  blow. 
Now  or  never,  seems  to  be  the  word  as  the  men  glance  at  their  leader 
and  then  into  each  other's  faces. 

"  Forward  !  no  shot,  no  sound,  till  they  see  us ;  then  cheer  like  mad 
as  you  charge  !  Come  on,  men  !" 

Quickly  now  following  his  lead,  they  go  leaping  down  the  hill-side. 
Thirty — fifty  yards  without  mishap  or  discovery.  Sixty,  and  still  no 
sound  from  the  defence ;  then  a  sudden  stumble,  the  rattle  of  a  carbine 
sliding  down  the  rocks,  a  muttered  execration ;  then  a  shrill,  piercing 
scream  from  the  midst  of  the  bivouac ;  then 

"  Charge !" 

In  they  go ! — the  "  Devil's  own  D's."  The  still  air  rings  with 
their  wild  hurrahs  and  the  crash  of  their  carbines.  The  flame-jets 
light  up  the  savage  scene  and  show  squaws  and  screaming  children 
rushing  for  shelter  among  the  rocks ;  Apache  warriors  springing  from 
the  ground,  some  manfully  facing  the  rush  of  the  foe,  others  fleeing 
like  women  down  the  hill-side.  Never  halting  an  instant,  the  soldiers 
dash  through  the  camp,  driving  the  dusky  occupants  helter-skelter. 
Lane  finds  himself  confronted  one  instant  by  a  savage  warrior  whose 
eyes  gleam  like  tiger's  under  the  thatch  of  coarse  black  hair,  and  whose 
E  9 


98  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

teeth  gnash  in  fury  as  he  tries  to  force  a  fresh  cartridge  into  his  breech 
loader.  No  time  for  Lane  to  reload.  He  clubs  his  carbine,  and  the 
hammer  comes  crashing  down  on  the  Indian's  skull  just  as  Corporal 
Riley  drives  a  bullet  through  his  heart. 

"  Look  to  the  captives,  man  !"  shouts  Lane.  "  Don't  follow  me  ! 
Drive  them !  drive  them,  Royce !"  are  his  ringing  orders,  as  he  him 
self  dashes  on  past  the  fires  and  into  the  feeble  morning  light 
beyond. 

Bang !  bang  !  the  carbines  are  ringing  through  the  rocks  and  trees  ; 
cheer  upon  cheer  goes  up  from  the  little  command,  mingled  with  Indian 
yells  and  the  screams  of  the  terrified  children. 

"  Riley's  got  'em,  sir,"  he  hears  his  boy-trumpeter  call.  "  Some  of 
;em,  anyhow.  There's  two  white  women." 

"  Never  mind,  lad,"  he  answers.  "  Don't  sound  the  recall  till  I 
tell  you." 

And  again  his  ringing  voice  is  heard  among  the  tumult:  "For 
ward  !  forward  !  drive  them  !  keep  them  on  the  run,  men  !" 

And  so  for  five  minutes  longer,  firing  whenever  a  savage  head 
appears,  inflicting  and  receiving  many  a  savage  blow,  but  still  victo 
riously  forcing  their  way  onward,  the  little  band  follow  their  leader 
down  the  rocks  until  apparently  not  an  Apache  is  left  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood  of  the  old  camp.  Then  at  last  the  trumpet  peals  out  its 
signal-recall. 

And  slowly  and  steadily,  watchfully  guarding  against  the  possi 
bility  of  leaving  some  wounded  comrade  among  the  rocks,  the  little 
command  finally  gathers  once  more  around  the  fires  in  the  camp. 

Riley  and  his  men  have  disappeared.  A  shout  from  up  the  rocks 
in  the  well-known  Irish  voice  gives  the  glad  intelligence  that  he  has 
brought  with  him  all  the  prisoners  he  could  find  in  camp. 

"  There  are  three  women,  sir,  and  two  little  children, — two  girls ; 
they're  so  frightened  that  I  can  hardly  find  out  much  from  them,  but 
they  say  there  was  no  more  left." 

"  Very  well,  then.  Now,  men,  open  out  right  and  left,  and  fall 
back  very  slowly.  Sergeant,  take  six  of  the  men  and  move  up  so  as 
to  be  close  to  Riley  in  case  they  attack  from  the  flank.  Are  we  all  here  ? 
Are  any  wounded  or  hurt?"  He  asks  the  question  with  a  little  stream 
of  blood  trickling  down  from  his  left  temple,  but  of  which  he  seems 
perfectly  unaware :  either  an  arrow  or  a  bullet  has  torn  the  skin  and 
made  quite  a  furrow  through  the  hair. 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  99 

"  Murphy,  sir,"  says  one  of  the  men,  "  is  shot  through  the  arm,  and 
Lathrop  has  got  a  bullet  in  the  leg;  but  they're  only  flesh-wounds: 
they're  lying  here  just  back  of  us." 

Lane  turns  about,  and  finds  two  of  his  men  looking  a  little  pale, 
but  perfectly  plucky  and  self-possessed.  "  We'll  get  you  along  all  right, 
men,"  he  says ;  "  don't  worry. — Now,  lads,  turn  about  every  ten  or 
fifteen  steps,  and  see  that  they  don't  get  close  upon  you.  Look  well  to 
the  left." 

Then  slowly  they  fall  back  towards  the  pass.  Every  now  and  then 
a  shot  comes  whizzing  by,  as  the  Apaches  regain  courage  and  creep  up 
to  their  abandoned  camp.  But  not  until  they  are  well  back  over  the 
ridge,  and  Riley  and  his  little  party,  fairly  carrying  their  rescued  cap 
tives,  are  nearly  out  of  harm's  way,  do  the  scattered  warriors  begin  to 
realize  how  few  in  number  their  assailants  must  be.  Rallying  shouts 
can  be  heard  among  the  rocks,  and  then  there  come  the  thunder  of 
hoofs  out  on  the  plain  below  and  the  answering  yells  of  the  returning 
raiders. 

"  Run  to  Corporal  Riley  and  tell  him  to  make  all  the  haste  he  can," 
Lane  orders  his  trumpeter.  "Tell  him  to  get  back  to  the  horses,  and 
then,  as  soon  as  he  has  left  his  women  in  a  safe  place  there,  to  throw 
up  stone  shelters  wherever  it  is  possible. — Royce,  you  look  out  for 
this  front.  I  will  go  to  the  left.  If  any  of  your  men  are  hit,  have 
them  picked  up  and  moved  rapidly  to  the  rear ;  of  course  we  can't 
leave  any  wounded  to  fall  into  their  hands ;  but,  where  possible,  keep 
your  men  under  cover ;  and  keep  under  yourself,  sir :  don't  let  me 
see  you  exposing  yourself  unnecessarily,  as  I  did  a  while  ago." 

And  once  again  the  retreat  is  resumed.  Lane  looks  anxiously 
among  the  rocks  down  the  hill  to  his  left,  every  instant  expecting  to  see 
the  young  braves  hurrying  to  the  assault.  But  now,  as  though  in 
obedience  to  the  signals  of  some  leader,  the  Apaches  cease  their  pursuit. 
Lane  well  knows  that  the  matter  is  not  yet  concluded,  but  is  thankful 
for  the  respite.  Still  warily  his  little  force  continues  the  withdrawal, 
and,  without  further  molestation,  reaches  the  gorge  of  the  San  Simon, 
and  soon  comes  in  sight  of  the  dip  among  the  rocks  where  the  horses 
are  still  hidden.  Here,  too,  Corporal  Riley  and  his  men  are  busily  at 
work  heaping  up  little  breastworks  of  rock,  and  Lane  directs  that  while 
the  wounded — there  are  three  now — are  carried  down  to  where  the 
rescued  women  and  children  are  lying,  the  other  men  fall  to  and  help. 
In  five  minutes  there  are  over  a  score  of  them  at  work,  and  not  one 


100  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

instant  too  soon.  Corporal  Donnelly,  who  has  been  posted,  mounted 
at  the  western  entrance  to  the  defile,  comes  clattering  in  to  say  that  at 
least  a  hundred  Indians  are  swarming  down  the  ridge. 

And  now  the  fight  that  opens  is  one  in  which  the  odds  are  greatly 
against  the  defenders.  Lane  has  just  time  to  climb  to  the  height  on 
the  east  and  take  one  long  look  with  his  glasses  over  the  flats  beyond 
the  pass,  praying  for  a  sight  of  a  dust-cloud  towards  the  Pyramid  Spur, 
when  with  simultaneous  crash  of  musketry  and  chorus  of  yells  the 
Apaches  come  sweeping  down  to  the  attack. 

XV. 

Meantime,  where  are  the  looked-for  supports?  Lane,  with  wearied 
horses,  had  made  the  march  from  the  railway-station  to  the  pass  in  a 
little  over  fourteen  hours.  It  was  5.30  when  he  started  and  8.15  when 
he  unsaddled  among  the  rocks.  He  had  come  through  the  blazing  sun 
shine  of  the  long  June  day ;  sometimes  at  the  trot,  sometimes  at  the 
lope,  ofttimes  dismounting  and  leading  when  crossing  ridges  or  ravines. 
He  was  still  pale  and  weak  from  his  long  illness,  and  suffering  from  a 
sorrow  that  had  robbed  him  of  all  the  buoyancy  he  had  ever  possessed. 
But  the  sense  of  duty  was  as  strong  as  ever,  and  the  soldier-spirit 
triumphed  over  the  ills  of  the  flesh. 

Noel,  starting  at  4.45  P.M.,  with  horses  and  men  fresh  and  eager, 
with  a  guide  who  knew  every  inch  of  the  way,  and  the  bright  starlight 
to  cheer  his  comrades,  could  reasonably  be  expected  to  cover  the  same 
ground  in  the  same  time ;  every  old  cavalryman  knows  that  horses  travel 
better  by  night  than  by  day.  By  good  rights  he  and  his  men  should 
be  at  the  pass  at  least  an  hour  before  the  time  set  by  Lane.  It  was  only 
a  week  before  that  the  captain  had  declared  at  the  "  Queen  City"  that 
he  had  never  felt  so*  "fit"  in  his  life  and  a  campaign  would  just  suit 
him.  Things  seemed  to  have  a  different  color,  however,  as  he  watched 
the  going  down  of  the  sun  behind  the  distant  Peloncillos.  The  words 
of  the  young  infantry  adjutant  kept  recurring  to  him,  and  he  knew  of 
old  that  when  Lane  started  after  Indians  he  was  "  dead  sure  to  get 
'em,"  as  Mr.  Mason  was  good  enough  to  remind  him. 

Twice  before  sunset  the  guide  had  ventured  to  suggest  a  quicker 
gait,  but  Noel  refused,  saying  that  he  did  not  mean  to  get  his  horses 
to  the  scene  worn  out  and  unfit  for  pursuit.  Mr.  Mason,  who  heard 
this,  begged  to  remind  the  captain  that  pursuit  was  not  the  object : 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  101 

they  were  expected  to  get  there  in  time  to  help  Lane  head  off  the 
attempt  at  further  flight,  and  to  hold  the  Apaches,  wherever  met,  until 
the  pursuing  force  could  reach  them  from  the  north  and  hem  them  in. 
Noel  ranked  Mason  only  a  few  files  and  knew  well  that  all  the  regi 
ment  would  side  with  his  subaltern  :  so  he  was  forced  to  a  show  of  cor 
diality  and  consideration.  He  rode  by  the  lieutenant's  side,  assuring 
him  of  the  sense  of  strength  it  gave  him  to  have  with  him  a  man  of 
such  experience.  "  For  your  sake,  Mason,  I  wish  I  had  been  twelve 
hours  later,  so  that  you  could  have  had  the  glory  of  this  thing  to  your 
self;  but  you  know  I  couldn't  stand  it.  I  had  to  pull  wires  like  sin  to 
get  relieved,  as  it  was.  Old  Hudson,  the  head  of  the  recruiting-service, 
just  swore  he  wouldn't  let  me  go,  because  I  had  had  good  luck  in  the 
class  and  number  of  the  recruits  I  sent  him.  Personally,  too,  Pm  in 
no  shape  to  ride.  See  how  fat  I've  grown  ?" 

Mason  saw,  but  said  a  fifty-mile  ride  ought  not  to  stagger  any  cavalry 
man,  hard  or  soft,  and  made  no  reply  whatever  to  the  captain's  account 
of  how  he  succeeded  in  getting  relieved.  He  didn't  believe  a  word  of  it. 

Night  came  on  and  found  them  still  marching  at  steady  walk. 
Halts  For  rest,  too,  had  been  frequently  ordered,  and  at  last  Mason 
could  stand  it  no  longer.  After  repeated  looks  at  his  watch,  he  had 
burst  out  with  an  earnest  appeal : 

"  Captain  Noel,  we'll  never  get  there  in  time  at  this  rate.  Surely, 
sir,  the  orders  you  got  from  the  general  must  be  different  from  those 
that  came  to  the  post.  They  said,  make  all  speed,  lose  not  a  moment. 
Did  not  yours  say  so  too  ?" 

"  The  general  knew  very  well  that  I  had  marched  cavalry  too  often 
not  to  understand  just  how  to  get  there  in  time,"  was  Noel's  stately 
reply ;  and,  though  chafing  inwardly,  Mason  was  compelled  to  silence. 
Ten  o'clock  came,  and  still  it  was  no  better.  Then  both  the  lieutenant 
and  the  guide,  after  a  moment's  consultation  during  a  rest,  approached 
the  captain  and  begged  him  to  increase  the  gait;  and  when  they 
mounted,  the  command  did,  for  a  while,  move  on  at  a  jog,  which 
Mason  would  fain  have  increased  to  the  lope,  but  Noel  interposed. 
Midnight,  and  more  rests,  found  them  fully  ten  miles  behind  the  point 
where  the  guide  and  the  lieutenant  had  planned  to  be.  Even  the  men 
had  begun  to  murmur  among  themselves,  and  to  contrast  the  captain's 
spiritless  advance  with  Mr.  Mason's  lively  methods.  Two  o'clock, 
and  the  Pyramid  Range  was  still  far  away.  Daybreak  came,  and  Mason 
was  nearly  mad  with  misery,  the  guide  sullen  and  disgusted.  Broad 

9* 


TWO  SOLDIERS. 

daylight, — six  o'clock, — and  here  at  last  were  the  Pyramid  Buttes  at 
their  right  front,  and,  coming  towards  them  on  the  trail,  a  single  horse 
man.  "  It  is  Sergeant  Luce,"  said  some  of  the  foremost  troopers. 

And  Luce  had  a  note,  which  he  handed  to  Lieutenant  Mason ;  but 
that  gentleman  shook  his  head  and  indicated  Noel.  The  captain  took 
it  in  silence,  opened  it,  glanced  over  the  contents,  changed  color,  as  all 
could  see,  and  then  inquired, — 

"  How  far  is  it,  sergeant  ?" 

"  It  must  be  fifteen  miles  from  here,  sir.  I  came  slowly,  because 
my  horse  was  worn  out,  and  because  Captain  Lane  thought  that  I 
would  meet  the  troop  very  much  nearer  the  pass.  It's  more  than 
fifteen  miles,  I  reckon." 

"  Had  the  attack  begun  before  you  left  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  and  I  could  hear  the  shots  as  I  came  out  of  the  pass, — 
hear  them  distinctly." 

"  May  I  inquire  what  the  news  is,  captain  ?"  said  Mr.  Mason,  riding 
up  to  his  side. 

"  Well,"  was  the  reply,  "  Lane  writes  that  he  has  headed  the  Apaches, 
and  that  he  is  just  moving  in  to  the  attack. 

"  Will  you  permit  me  to  see  the  note,  sir  ?"  said  Mason,  trembling 
with  exasperation  at  the  indifferent  manner  in  which  it  was  received. 

Noel  hesitated  :  "  Presently, — presently,  Mr.  Mason.  We'll  move 
forward  at  a  trot,  now." 

Sergeant  Luce  reined  about,  and,  riding  beside  the  first  sergeant  of 
K  Troop,  told  him  in  low  tones  of  the  adventures  of  the  previous  day 
and  night,  and  the  fact  that  the  Apaches  were  there  just  north  of  the 
pass  and  in  complete  force.  The  result  seemed  to  be,  as  the  word  was 
passed  among  the  men,  to  increase  the  gait  to  such  an  extent  that  they 
crowded  upon  the  leaders,  and  Noel,  time  and  again,  threw  up  his  hand 
and  warned  the  men  not  to  ride  over  the  heels  of  his  horse. 

Seven  o'clock  came,  and  still  they  had  not  got  beyond  the  Pyramids. 
Eight  o'clock,  and  they  were  not  in  sight  of  the  pass.  Nine  o'clock, 
and  still  the  gorge  was  not  in  view.  It  was  not  until  nearly  ten  that 
the  massive  gate-way  seemed  to  open  before  them,  and  then,  far  to  the 
front,  their  eager  ears  could  catch  the  sound  of  sharp  and  rapid  firing. 

"  My  God  !"  said  Mason,  with  irrepressible  excitement,  "  there's  no 
question  about  it,  captain,  Lane's  surrounded  there  !  For  heaven's  sake, 
sir,  let's  get  ahead  to  his  support." 

"  Ride   forward,  sergeant,"  said  Noel  to  Luce,  "  and  show  us  the 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  103 

shortest  way  you  know  to  where  Captain  Lane  has  corralled  his  horses. 
— I  don't  like  the  idea  of  entering  that  pass  in  column,  Mr.  Mason.  The 
only  safe  way  to  do  it  will  be  to  dismount  and  throw  a  line  of  skir 
mishers  ahead.  If  Lane  is  surrounded,  the  Apaches  undoubtedly  will 
open  fire  on  us  as  we  pass  through." 

"  Suppose  they  do,  sir  :  we've  got  men  enough  to  drive  them  back. 
What  we  want  is  to  get  through  there  as  quickly  as  possible." 

But  Noel  shook  his  head,  and,  forming  line  to  the  front  at  a  trot, 
moved  forward  a  few  hundred  yards,  and  then,  to  the  intense  disgust 
of  Mr.  Mason,  ordered  the  first  platoon  dismounted  and  pushed  ahead 
as  skirmishers.  Compelled  to  leave  their  horses  with  number  four  of 
each  set,  the  other  troopers,  sullenly,  but  in  disciplined  silence,  advanced 
afoot  up  the  gentle  slope  which  led  to  the  heights  on  the  right  of  the 
gorge. 

Not  a  shot  impeded  their  advance  ;  not  a  sound  told  them  that  they 
were  even  watched.  But  far  up  through  the  pass  itself  the  sound  of 
sharp  firing  continued,  and  every  now  and  then  a  shrill  yell  indicated 
that  the  Apaches  were  evidently  having  the  best  of  it. 

Again  Mason  rode  to  his  captain.  "  I  beg  you,  sir,"  he  said, 
"  to  let  me  take  my  platoon,  or  the  other  one,  and  charge  through 
there.  It  isn't  possible  that  they  can  knock  more  than  one  or  two  of 
us  out  of  the  saddle ;  and  if  you  follow  with  the  rest  of  the  men  they 
can  easily  be  taken  care  of."  But  Noel  this  time  rebuked  him. 

"  Mr.  Mason,  I  have  had  too  much  of  your  interference,"  he  said, 
"  and  I  will  tolerate  no  more.  I  am  in  command  of  this  troop,  sir, 
and  I  am  responsible  for  its  proper  conduct." 

And  Mason,  rebuffed,  fell  back  without  further  word. 

The  pass  was  reached,  and  still  not  a  shot  had  been  fired.  Over 
the  low  ridge  the  dismounted  troopers  went,  and  not  an  Apache  was  in 
sight.  Then  at  last  it  became  evident  that  to  cross  the  stream  they 
would  have  to  ford  ;  and  then  the  "  recall"  was  sounded,  the  horses 
were  run  rapidly  forward  to  the  skirmish-line,  the  men  swung  into 
saddle,  the  rear  platoon  closed  on  the  one  in  front,  and  cautiously,  with 
Mason  leading  and  Noel  hanging  back  a  little  as  though  to  direct  the 
march  of  his  column,  the  troop  passed  through  the  river  and  came  out 
on  the  other  side.  The  moment  they  reached  the  bank,  Mason  struck  a 
trot  without  any  orders,  and  the  men  followed  him. 

Noel  hastened  forward,  shouting  out,  "  Walk,  walk."  But,  finding 
that  they  either  did  not  or  would  not  hear  him,  he  galloped  in  front  of 


104  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

the  troop,  and  sternly  ordered  the  leaders  to  decrease  their  gait  and  not 
again  to  take  the  trot  unless  he  gave  the  command. 

Just  at  this  minute,  from  the  heights  to  the  right  and  left,-  half  a 
dozen  shots  were  fired  in  quick  succession  ;  a  trooper  riding  beside  the 
first  sergeant  threw  up  his  arms,  with  the  sudden  cry,  "  My  God  1  I've 
got  it !"  and  fell  back  from  the  saddle.  Noel  at  the  same  instant  felt  a 
twinge  along  his  left  arm,  and,  wheeling  his  horse  about,  shouted,  "  To 
the  rear  !  to  the  rear !  We're  ambushed  !"  And,  despite  the  rallying 
cry  of  Mason  and  the  entreaties  of  the  guide,  the  men,  taking  the  cue 
from  their  leader,  reined  to  the  right  and  left  about  and  went  clattering 
out  of  the  pass. 

More  shots  came  from  the  Apaches,  some  aimed  at  the  fleeing  troop 
and  others  at  the  little  group  of  men  that  remained  behind ;  for  the 
poor  fellow  who  had  been  shot  through  the  breast  lay  insensible  by 
the  side  of  the  stream,  and  would  have  been  abandoned  to  his  fate  but 
for  the  courage  and  devotion  of  Mason  and  two  of  the  leading  men. 
Promptly  jumping  from  their  horses,  they  raised  him  between  them, 
and,  laying  him  across  the  pommel  of  one  of  the  saddles,  supported  by 
the  troopers,  the  wounded  man  was  carried  back  to  the  ford,  and  from 
there  out  of  harm's  way. 

By  this  time  Noel,  at  full  gallop,  had  gone  four  or  five  hundred 
yards  to  the  rear,  and  there  the  first  sergeant — not  he — rallied  the  troop, 
reformed  it,  counted  fours,  and  faced  it  to  the  front. 

When  Mason  returned  to  them,  leading  the  two  troopers  and  the 
dying  man,  his  face  was  as  black  as  a  thunder-cloud.  He  rode  up  to 
his  captain,  who  was  stanching  with  a  handkerchief  a  little  stream  of 
blood  that  seemed  to  be  coming  down  his  left  arm,  and  addressed  to 
him  these  words : 

"Captain  Noel,  there  were  not  more  than  six  or  eight  Apaches 
guarding  those  heights.  There  was  no  excuse  in  God's  world,  sir,  for 
a  retreat.  I  can  take  my  platoon  and  go  through  there  now  without 
difficulty,  and  once  again,  sir,  I  implore  you  to  let  me  do  it." 

Noel's  reply  was,  "  I  have  already  heard  too  much  from  you  to-day, 
Mr.  Mason.  If  I  hear  one  more  word,  you  go  to  the  rear  in  arrest.  I 
am  wounded,  sir,  but  I  will  not  turn  over  this  command  to  you." 

"  Wounded  be  hanged !  Captain  Noel,  you've  got  a  scratch  of 
•which  a  child  ought  to  be  ashamed,"  was  the  furious  reply,  upon  which 
Noel,  considering  that  he  must  at  all  hazards  preserve  the  dignity  of 
his  position,  ordered  Lieutenant  Mason  to  consider  himself  in  arrest. 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  105 

And,  dismounting,  and  calling  to  one  or  two  of  the  men  to  assist  him, 
the  captain  got  out  of  his  blouse  and  had  the  sleeve  of  his  under-shirt 
cut  off,  and  then,  in  full  hearing  of  the  combat  up  the  pass,  proceeded 
to  have  a  scratch,  as  Mason  had  truly  designated  it,  stanched  and 
dressed. 

Meantime,  the  troop,  shamefaced  and  disgusted,  dismounted  and 
awaited  further  developments.  For  fifteen  minutes  they  remained 
there,  listening  to  the  battle  a  mile  away,  and  then  there  came  a  sound 
that  thrilled  every  man  with  excitement, — with  mad  longing  to  dash  to 
the  front :  there  came  crashes  of  musketry  that  told  of  the  arrival  of 
strong  reinforcements  for  one  party  or  another, — which  party  was  soon 
developed  by  the  glorious,  ringing  cheers  that  they  well  recognized  to 
be  those  of  their  comrades  of  Greene's  battalion. 

"  By  heavens  !"  said  Mason,  with  a  groan,  "  after  all,  we  have  lost 
our  chance !  It's  Greene,  not  old  K  Troop,  that  got  there  in  time  to 
save  them." 

The  looks  that  were  cast  towards  their  new  captain  by  the  men, 
standing  in  sullen  silence  at  their  horses'  heads,  were  not  those  that  any 
soldier  w6uld  have  envied. 

Directing  the  first  sergeant  to  take  half  a  dozen  troopers  and  feel 
their  way  cautiously  to  the  front  and  ascertain  what  that  new  sound 
meant,  the  rest  of  the  men  meanwhile  to  remain  at  ease,  Noel  still  sat 
there  on  the  ground,  as  though  faint  from  loss  of  blood.  The  bleed 
ing,  however,  had  been  too  trifling  to  admit  of  any  such  supposition 
on  the  part  of  those  who  had  been  looking  on.  The  cheering  up  the 
pass  increased.  The  firing  rapidly  died  away.  Soon  it  was  seen  that 
the  first  sergeant  was  signalling,  and  presently  a  man  came  riding  back. 
The  sergeant  and  the  others  disappeared,  going  fearlessly  into  the  pass?, 
and  evidently  indicating  by  their  movements  that  they  anticipated  no 
further  resistance.  The  arriving  horseman  dismounted,  saluted  the 
captain,  and  reported  substantially  that  the  pass  was  now  in  posses 
sion  of  Major  Greene's  men,  and  that  the  Apaches  were  in  full  flight 
towards  the  south,  some  of  the  troops  pursuing. 

Then  at  last  it  was  that  the  "  mount"  was  sounded  by  the  trumpeter, 
and  half  an  hour  afterwards — full  three  hours  after  they  should  have 
been  there — Captain  Noel  with  K  Troop  arrived  at  the  scene.  Lane, 
faint  from  loss  of  blood,  was  lying  under  a  tree ;  four  of  his  men  were 
killed  ;  one  of  the  helpless  recaptured  women  had  been  shot  by  an  In 
dian  bullet ;  five  more  of  the  "  Devil's  own  D's"  were  lying  wounded 
E* 


106  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

iround  among  the  rocks.  Desperate  had  been  the  defence  ;  sore  had 
been  their  need  ;  safe,  thoroughly  safe,  they  would  have  been  had  !Noei 
got  there  in  time ;  but  it  was  Greene's  battalion  that  finally  reached 
them  only  at  the  last  moment.  And  yet  this  was  the  thrilling  announce 
ment  that  appeared  in  the  Queen  City  Chronicle  in  its  morning  edition, 
two  days  afterwards : 

"  Gallant  Noel  \  Rescue  of  the  Indian  Captives  !  Stirring  Pursuit 
and  Fierce  Battle  with  the  Apaches ! 

"  A  despatch  received  last  night  by  the  Hon.  Amos  Withers  an 
nounces  the  return  from  the  front  of  Captain  Noel,  who  so  recently  left 
our  midst,  with  a  portion  of  his  troop,  bringing  with  him  the  womeu 
and  children  who  had  been  run  off  by  the  Apaches  on  their  raid  among 
the  ranches  south  of  their  reservation.  The  captain  reports  a  severe 
fight,  in  which  many  of  the  regiment  were  killed  and  wounded,  he 
himself,  though  making  light  of  the  matter,  receiving  a  bullet  through 
the  left  arm. 

"  While  the  rest  of  the  command  had  gone  on  in  pursuit  of  the 
Apaches,  the  captain  was  sent  by  the  battalion  commander  to  escort 
the  captives  back  to  the  railway. 

"  This  despatch,  though  of  a  private  character,  is  fully  substantiated 
by  the  official  report  of  the  general  commanding  the  department  to  the 
Adjutant-General  of  the  army.  It  reads  as  follows  : 

" '  Captain  Noel,  of  the  Eleventh  Cavalry,  has  just  reached  the 
railway,  bringing  with  him  all  but  one  of  the  women  and  children 
whom  the  Apaches  had  carried  off  into  captivity.  The  other  was  shot 
by  a  bullet  in  the  desperate  fight  which  occurred  in  San  Simon  Pass 
between  the  commands  of  Captains  Lane  and  Noel  and  the  Apaches, 
whose  retreat  they  were  endeavoring  to  head  off.  Greene's  battalion 
of  the  Eleventh  arrived  in  time  to  take  part ;  but  on  their  appear 
ance  the  Apaches  fled  through  the  mountains  in  the  wildest  confusion, 
leaving  much  of  their  plunder  behind  them. 

"'It  is  impossible  as  yet  to  give  accurate  accounts  of  the  killed 
and  wounded,  but  our  losses  are  reported  to  have  been  heavy.' 

"  How  thoroughly  have  the  predictions  of  the  Chronicle  with  regard 
to  this  gallant  officer  been  fulfilled  !  To  his  relatives  and  his  many 
friends  in  our  midst  the  Chronicle  extends  its  most  hearty  congratula 
tions.  We  predict  that  the  welcome  which  Captain  Noel  will  receive 
will  be  all  that  his  fondest  dreams  could  possibly  have  cherished." 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  107 


XVI. 

For  a  week  the  story  of  Gordon  Noel's  heroism  was  the  talk  of 
Queen  City  society.  He  had  led  the  charge  upon  the  Indians  after  a 
pursuit  of  over  a  hundred  miles  through  the  desert.  He  had  fought 
his  way  to  the  cave  in  which  those  poor  captive  women  were  guarded, 
and  had  himself  cut  the  thongs  that  bound  them.  He  was  painfully 
wounded,  but  never  quit  the  fight  till  the  last  savage  was  driven  from 
the  field.  For  daring  and  brilliant  conduct  he  was  to  be  promoted 
over  the  heads  of  all  the  captains  in  his  regiment.  His  name  was 
already  before  the  President  for  a  vacancy  in  the  Adjutant-General's 
Department,  and  the  appointment  would  be  announced  at  once.  He 
was  coming  East  just  as  soon  as  the  surgeon  said  he  was  well  enough 
to  travel.  Mrs.  Noel  wanted  to  join  him,  but  he  had  telegraphed 
saying  no,  that  he  would  soon  be  with  her. 

So  rang  the  chorus  for  several  days.  At  the  club  the  men  shook 
hands  over  the  news,  and  sent  telegrams  of  praise  and  congratulation 
to  Noel,  and  drank  his  health  in  bumpers ;  and  two  or  three  "  old  sore 
heads,*  who  ventured  to  point  out  that  the  official  reports  were  not  yet 
in,  were  pooh-poohed  and  put  down. 

Amos  Withers  had  left  for  Washington  on  a  midnight  train  im 
mediately  after  furnishing  the  Chronicle  with  the  contents  of  his  de 
spatch,  making  no  allusion  to  that  part  of  it  which  said,  "  Now  push 
for  that  vacancy.  Not  an  instant  must  be  lost."  Nobody  could  say 
nay  to  the  man  who  had  subscribed  the  heaviest  sum  to  the  campaign 
fund  in  his  own  State,  and  therefore  both  its  Senators  and  half  its 
representatives  in  the  House  went  with  him  to  the  President  to  urge 
the  immediate  nomination  of  Captain  Noel  to  the  majority  in  the  Ad 
jutant-General's  Department  made  vacant  by  the  promotion  consequent 
upon  the  retirement  of  one  of  its  oldest  members.  Already  the  War 
Department  had  furnished  the  Executive  with  the  names  and  records 
of  the  four  men  whom  it  considered  most  deserving,  and  Gordon  Noel's 
name  was  not  one  of  the  four.  But  what  was  that  in  comparison  with 
the  eminent  pecuniary  and  political  services  of  Mr.  Withers,  when  the 
nephew  had  just  behaved  so  superbly  in  action? 

Meantime,  the  Apaches  had  scattered  through  the  mountains  and 
escaped  across  the  border,  the  remnant  of  Lane's  troop  taking  part  in 
the  pursuit,  and  they,  with  their  commander,  only  slowly  returning  to 
the  railway.  For  three  or  four  days  Noel  had  the  wires  and  the  corre- 


108  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

spondents  pretty  much  to  himself;  but  then  some  of  those  enterprising 
news-gatherers  had  been  getting  particulars  from  the  men,  and  there 
were  two  or  three  of  K  Troop  in  the  detachment  who  could  not  conceal 
their  derision  and  contempt  when  the  newspaper-men  spoke  of  the 
bravery  of  their  captain.  This  set  the  correspondents  to  ferreting,  and 
then  the  despatches  began  to  take  a  different  color.  The  very  day  that 
Mabel  received  her  first  letter  from  her  husband,  and  was  reading  ex 
tracts  from  it  to  envious  friends  who  had  come  in  to  swell  the  chorus 
of  jubilee  and  congratulation,  an  evening  paper  intimated  that  recent 
despatches  received  from  the  seat  of  war  revealed  a  different  state  of 
affairs  than  was  popularly  supposed. 

But  by  this  time  interest  was  waning.  It  is  the  first  impression 
that  is  always  the  strongest,  the  first  story  that  is  longest  remembered, 
and  no  man  who  has  believed  one  version  will  accept  the  truth  without 
vigorous  resistance.  In  his  letter  to  his  wife,  Noel  had  spoken  modestly 
of  himself  and  slightingly  of  his  wounds.  This  only  made  her  wor 
ship  him — her  hero,  her  gallant  Gordon — the  more  insanely.  He  inti 
mated  that  he  had  been  compelled  to  place  in  arrest  one  of  the  promi 
nent  officers  of  the  regiment  for  misconduct  in  the  face  of  the  enemy  ; 
and  this  and  previous  matters,  he  said,  would  surely  make  of  this  officer 
an  unrelenting  foe.  She  need  not  be  surprised,  therefore,  if  this  gen 
tleman  should  strive  to  do  him  grievous  harm.  Mabel  blushed  be 
comingly  as  she  read  these  lines  to  some  of  her  friends,  and  that  night 
at  the  club  it  was  hinted  that  Lane  had  been  placed  in  close  arrest  for 
failing  to  support  Noel  in  his  desperate  assault.  Just  at  this  time,  too, 
Mr.  Withers  came  back  from  Washington,  looking  mysterious. 

The  next  published  despatches  were  from  the  general  himself.  He 
was  incensed  over  the  escape  of  the  Apaches.  Measures  for  the  capture 
were  complete,  and  it  was  broadly  hinted  that  a  certain  officer  would  be 
brought  to  trial  for  his  failure  to  carry  out  positive  orders. 

"  It  is  believed,"  said  the  Chronicle,  "  that  the  officer  referred  to  is 
well  known  in  our  community,  as  he  had,  oddly  enough,  been  a  prede 
cessor  in  the  recruiting-service  of  the  actual  hero  of  the  campaign." 

Two  weeks  went  by.  There  was  no  announcement  of  Noel's  name 
as  promoted.  Other  matters  occupied  the  attention  of  the  club  and  the 
coteries,  and  no  one  knew  just  what  it  all  meant  when  it  was  announced 
that  Mrs.  Noel  had  suddenly  left  for  the  frontier  to  join  her  husband. 
Perhaps  his  wounds  were  more  severe  than  at  first  reported.  Then  it 
was  noticed  that  Mr.  Withers  was  in  a  very  nervous  and  irritable  frame 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  109 

of  mind,  that  constant  despatches  were  passing  between  him  and  Cap 
tain  Noel  in  the  West,  and  that  suddenly  he  departed  again  on  some 
mysterious  errand  for  Washington.  And  then  it  was  announced  that 
Captain  Noel  would  not  be  able  to  visit  the  East  as  had  been  expected. 

All  the  same  it  came  as  a  shock  which  completely  devastated  the 
social  circles  of  the  Queen  City  when  it  was  announced  in  the  New 
York  and  Chicago  papers  that  a  general  court-martial  had  been  ordered 
to  assemble  at  Fort  Gregg,  New  Mexico,  for  the  trial  of  Captain  Gor 
don  Noel,  Eleventh  Cavalry,  on  charges  of  misbehavior  in  the  face  of 
the  enemy,  and  conduct  unbecoming  an  officer  and  a  gentleman. 

The  Chronicle  made  no  allusion  to  the  matter  until  after  it  was 
heralded  over  the  city  by  the  other  journals.  Then  it  announced  that 
it  was  in  possession  of  information  showing  conclusively  that  Captain 
Noel  was  the  victim  of  the  envy  of  certain  officers  in  his  regiment,  and 
that  the  charges  had  been  trumped  up  from  the  false  and  prejudiced 
statement  of  the  man  whom  he  had  been  compelled  to  place  in  arrest 
for  misconduct  in  action.  "Captain  Noel  had  demanded  a  court- 
martial,"  said  the  Chronicle,  "  that  he  might  be  triumphantly  vindi 
cated,  as  he  undoubtedly  would  be." 

At  the  club  several  men  surrounded  Lieutenant  Bowen  with  eager 
inquiry  as  to  the  facts  in  the  case.  Bowen,  who  was  now  in  charge  of 
the  rendezvous  as  Noel's  successor,  was  very  reticent  when  interrogated. 
He  said  that  while  an  officer  might  demand  a  court  of  inquiry,  he  could 
not  demand  a  court-martial ;  they  were  entirely  different  things ;  and  it 
was  certainly  the  latter  that  had  been  ordered. 

"  Was  there  not  some  likelihood  of  malice  and  envy  being  at  the 
bottom  of  the  charges?"  he  was  asked.  "  And  was  it  not  unfair  to  let 
him  be  tried  by  officers  prejudiced  against  him?" 

Bowen  said  he  did  not  belong  to  the  Eleventh,  but  he  knew  it  well 
enough  to  say  no  to  the  first  part  of  the  question.  As  to  the  other, 
there  were  only  two  officers  from  that  regiment  on  the  court,  and  one 
was  Noel's  old  friend  and  colonel, — Riggs. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  talk  that  Mr.  Amos  Withers  had  sud 
denly  appeared  and  begged  a  few  words  in  private  with  Mr.  Bowen. 

Withers  was  in  a  state  of  nervous  excitement,  as  any  one  could 
see.  He  talked  eagerly,  even  pleadingly,  with  the  silent  lieutenant,  and 
at  last  suddenly  arose  and,  with  the  look  of  a  defeated  and  discomfited 
man,  left  the  club-house,  entered  his  carriage,  and  was  driven  rapidly 
away. 

10 


110  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

That  night  an  officer  from  the  War  Department  arrived  in  the 
Queen  City,  and  was  closeted  fora  while  with  Lieutenant  Bowen,  after 
which  the  two  went  to  the  Chief  of  Police,  and,  in  company  with  him, 
visited  the  cell  where  Taintor,  deserter  and  forger,  was  confined,  took 
his  statement  and  that  of  the  Chief,  and  with  these  documents  the 
officer  went  on  to  division  head-quarters. 

Meantime,  the  campaign  had  come  to  an  end.  Captain  Noel  had 
reported,  in  arrest,  to  the  commanding  officer  at  Fort  Gregg,  and  Mrs. 
Riggs  had  tearfully  greeted  him  :  "  She  would  so  love  to  have  him 
under  her  roof,  that  she  might  show  her  sympathy  and  friendship ;  but 
so  many  officers  of  high  rank  were  coming  on  the  court  that  the  colonel 
was  compelled  to  give  every  bit  of  room  he  had  to  them."  Noel 
thanked  her  nervously,  and  said  he  could  be  comfortable  anywhere,  but 
his  wife  was  coming :  she  had  telegraphed  that  she  could  not  be  sepa 
rated  from  him  when  he  was  suffering  wrong  and  outrage.  Captain 
and  Mrs.  Lowndes,  moved  to  instant  sympathy,  begged  that  he  would 
make  their  quarters  his  home,  and  placed  their  best  room  at  his  dis 
posal. 

Two  evenings  afterwards  he  was  permitted  to  go  himself  to  the  rail 
way  to  meet  poor  Mabel,  who  threw  herself  into  his  arms  and  almost 
sobbed  her  heart  out  at  sight  of  his  now  haggard  and  care-worn  face. 
Mrs.  Lowndes  then  came  forward  and  strove  to  comfort  her,  while 
Noel  rushed  off  to  send  some  telegrams.  Then  they  drove  out  to  the 
post,  and  Mabel's  spirits  partially  revived  when  she  found  that  it  was 
not  a  prison  she  had  come  to  share  with  her  husband.  Everybody  was 
BO  gentle  and  kind  to  her,  she  began  to  believe  there  was  nothing  very 
serious  in  the  matter,  after  all. 

It  lacked  yet  five  days  to  the  meeting  of  the  court,  and  in  the  inter 
vening  time  there  arrived  at  the  post  a  prominent  and  distinguished 
lawyer  from  the  East,  sent  to  conduct  the  defence  by  Mr.  Withers's 
orders;  and  many  a  long  talk  did  he  hold  with  his  client  and  the 
officers  who  were  gathering  at  Gregg. 

The  charges  of  misconduct  in  face  of  the  enemy  had  been  preferred 
by  thfi  Department  commander,  who  cited  as  his  witnesses  Captain 
Lane,  Lieutenant  Mason,  Lieutenant  Royce,  the  guide,  and  two  or 
three  non-commissioned  officers.  To  the  charge  of  "  conduct  unbecom 
ing  an  officer  and  a  gentleman  "  there  were  specifications  setting  forth 
that  he  had  caused  to  be  circulated  and  published  reports  to  the  effect 
that  it  was  his  command  that  had  been  severely  engaged,  and  his  com- 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  Ill 

mand  that  had  rescued  the  captives  and  defeated  the  Indians,  which 
statements  he  well  knew  to  be  false.  Two  or  three  correspondents  and 
railway  employees  and  the  telegraph  operator  were  witnesses.  This 
would  be  a  hard  one  to  prove  affirmatively,  as  the  judge-advocate  found 
when  he  examined  his  witnesses  as  they  arrived,  and  the  great  lawyer 
assured  the  accused  officer  that  he  could  secure  him  an  acquittal  on  that 
charge.  The  real  danger  lay  in  the  testimony  of  Captain  Lane  and 
Lieutenant  Mason,  who  had  not  yet  come. 

And  now,  hour  after  hour,  for  two  days,  Mabel  was  reading  in  her 
husband's  face  the  utter  hopelessness  that  possessed  him  ;  nay,  more, 
the  truth  was  being  revealed  to  her  in  all  its  damning  details.  It 
might  be  impossible  for  the  prosecution  to  prove  that  he  had  actually 
caused  the  false  and  boastful  stories  to  be  given  to  the  press  and  the 
public ;  but  how  about  the  telegrams  and  letters  Mr.  Withers  had  so 
proudly  come  to  show  her?  How  about  the  telegrams  and  letters  she 
herself  had  received?  What  impression  could  she  derive  from  them 
but  that  he  was  the  hero  of  the  whole  affair,  and  that  he  was  lying 
painfully  wounded  when  he  wrote  ?  The  gash  through  the  beautiful 
white  arm  turned  out  to  be  a  mere  scratch  upon  the  skin,  that  a  pin 
might  have  made.  It  was  Greene's  command  from  Fort  Graham  that 
had  rescued  Lane,  and  Lane  with  his  men  who  had  rescued  the  cap 
tives,  and  then  fought  so  hard,  so  desperately,  against  such  fearful  odds, 
and  sustained  their  greatest  losses,  while  her  hero, — her  Gordon, — with 
nearly  fifty  men,  was  held  only  a  mile  away  by  half  a  dozen  ragamuf 
fins  in  the  rocks.  She  had  almost  adored  him,  believing  him  godlike 
in  courage  and  magnanimity ;  but  now  on  every  side  the  real  facts  were 
coming  to  light,  and  she  even  wrung  them  from  his  reluctant  lips.  And 
yet — and  yet — he  was  her  husband,  and  she  loved  him. 

Again  and  again  did  she  question  Mr.  Falconer,  the  eminent  counsel, 
as  to  the  possibilities.  This  gentleman  had  fought  all  through  the  war 
of  the  rebellion,  and  had  won  high  commendation  for  bravery.  He 
had  taken  the  case  because  he  believed,  on  Withers's  statement,  that 
Noel  was  a  wronged  and  injured  man,  and  because,  possibly,  a  fee  of 
phenomenal  proportion  could  be  looked  for.  He  met  among  the  old 
captains  of  the  Eleventh  men  whom  he  had  known  in  Virginia  in  the 
war-days,  and  learned  from  them  what  Noel's  real  reputation  was,  and, 
beyond  perad venture,  how  he  had  shirked  and  played  the  coward  in 
the  last  campaign  :  so  that  he,  who  had  known  Mabel  Vincent  from 
her  babyhood  and  loved  her  old  father,  now  shrank  from  the  sorrow  of 


112  TWO  SOLDIEES. 

having  to  tell  her  the  truth.  Yet  she  demanded  it,  and  he  had  to  say 
that  her  husband's  fate  hinged  on  the  evidence  that  might  be  given  by 
Captain  Lane  and  Mr.  Mason. 

That  very  night  these  two  officers  arrived,  together  with  three  mem 
bers  of  the  court.  The  following  day  at  ten  o'clock  the  court  was  to 
begin  its  session,  and  four  of  its  members  were  still  to  come.  That 
night  Mr.  Falconer  and  her  husband  were  closeted  with  several  men  in 
succession,  seeking  evidence  for  the  defence.  That  night  there  came  a 
despatch  from  Withers  saying  he  had  done  his  best  in  Washington,  but 
that  it  seemed  improbable  that  the  President  would  interfere  and  accept 
Noel's  resignation  from  the  service. 

Noel  showed  this  to  Mabel  and  sank  upon  the  sofa  with  a  groan 
of  despair. 

"  Oh,  my  darling  !"  she  whispered,  kneeling  by  his  side  and  throwing 
her  arms  about  his  neck,  "  don't  give  way  !  There  must  be  hope  yet ! 
They  cannot  prove  such  cruel  charges !  There  must  be  a  way  of 
averting  this  trouble." 

"  There  is  one,"  said  he,  starting  up.  "  There  is  one,  if  you  will 
only  do  it  to  save  me." 

"  What  would  T  not  do  to  save  you,  Gordon  ?"  she  asked,  though 
her  face  was  paling  now  with  awful  dread  of  what  the  demand 
might  be. 

"  Mabel,  my  wife,  it  is  to  see — him  at  once.  There  is  nothing  that 
he  will  not  do  for  you.  I  know  it — for  I  know  what  he  has  done. 
See  him.  You  know  what  to  say.  I  cannot  prompt  you.  But  get 
him  to  tell  as  little  as  he  possibly  can  in  regard  to  this  case." 

"  Gordon !"  she  cried,  "  you  ask  me  to  do  this,  after  the  great 
wrong  I  did  him  ?" 

There  is  no  other  way,"  was  the  sullen  answer.  And  he  turned 
moodily  from  her  side,  leaving  her  stunned,  speechless. 


XVII. 

Somewhere  about  ten  o'clock  that  night  the  judge-advocate  of  the 
court  dropped  in  at  the  "  bachelor  quarters,"  where  both  Lane  and 
Mason  had  been  made  welcome,  and  asked  to  see  those  gentlemen.  He 
was  conversing  witli  them  over  the  affair  at  the  San  Simon,  when  Cap 
tain  Lowndes  was  ushered  into  the  room. 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  113 

"  Am  I  intruding  ?"  asked  the  latter.  "  I  merely  wished  to  speak 
to  Lane  a  moment." 

"  By  no  means,  Lowndes.  Come  right  in.  We'll  be  through  in 
one  minute. — Then,  as  I  understand  you,  Lane,  you  could  distinctly 
see  K  Troop  as  it  forded  the  stream,  and  could  see  the  Apaches  who 
fired  upon  them  ?" 

"  Yes, — distinctly.  I  was  praying  for  their  coming,  as  our  ammuni 
tion  was  running  low.  The  Indians  seemed  so  encouraged  by  the  ease 
with  which  they  drove  them  back  that  the  whole  band  swarmed  out 
from  cover  and  crowded  on  us  at  once.  It  was  in  the  next  fifteen 
minutes  that  my  men  were  killed, — and  that  poor  woman." 

"  And  there  were  only  six  Indians  who  opened  fire  on  Noel  ?" 

"  Only  six,  sir." 

The  judge-advocate  was  silent  a  moment.  "There  is,  of  course,  a 
chance  that  our  absentees  may  get  here  to-morrow  morning  in  time. 
If  they  do,  you  will  be  the  first  witness  called ;  if  they  do  not,  we  ad 
journ  to  await  their  arrival.  It  promises  to  be  a  long  case.  A  tele 
gram  has  just  reached  me,  saying  that  additional  and  grave  charges  are 
being  sent  by  mail  from  division  head-quarters." 

Captain  Lowndes  listened  to  this  brief  conversation  with  an  expres 
sion  of  deep  perplexity  on  his  kindly  face,  and  as  soon  as  the  judge- 
advocate  had  gone  and  Mason  hacl  left  the  room  he  turned  to  Lane : 

"  You  know  they  are  staying  with  us.  That  poor  girl  has  come 
all  this  weary  journey  to  be  with  him,  and  there  was  absolutely  no 
place  where  she  could  lay  her  head  unless  we  opened  our  doors  and 
took  him  in  too." 

Lane  bowed  assent :  "  I  had  heard,  Lowndes.  It  was  like  you  and 
that  dear  wife  of  yours." 

"  Lane,"  spoke  the  older  man,  impetuously,  after  a  moment  of  em 
barrassed  silence,  "  I  want  you  to  do  something  for  my  wife,  and  for 
me.  Come  home  with  me  for  a  few  minutes.  You  won't  see  him  ; 
but — it  is  that  heart-broken  girl.  She  begs  that  you  will  see  her, — 
to-night.  Here  is  a  little  note." 

Lane's  sad  face  had  grown  deathly  pale.  He  looked  wonderingly 
in  his  companion's  eyes  a  moment,  then  slowly  took  the  note  and  left 
the  room,  leaving  Lowndes  to  pace  the  floor  in  much  disquiet. 

In  five  minutes  the  former  reappeared  in  the  door-way.  "  Come," 
he  said,  and  himself  led  the  way  out  into  the  starlit  night.  Not  a 
word  was  spoken  by  either  man  as  they  slowly  walked  down  the  row. 

10* 


114  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

Arriving  at  his  quarters,  Captain  Lowndes  ushered  his  friend  into  the 
little  army  parlor,  and  Mrs.  Lowndes  came  forward,  extending  both  her 
hands.  "  It  is  good  of  you  to  come,"  she  said.  "  I  will  let  her  know, 
at  once." 

Two  shaded  lamps  cast  a  soft,  subdued  light  over  the  simply-fur 
nished  little  room.  What  a  contrast  to  the  sumptuous  surroundings 
of  the  home  in  which  he  had  last  met  her !  Lane  stood  by  the  little 
work-table  a  moment,  striving  to  subdue  the  violent  beating  of  his 
heart  and  the  tremors  that  shook  his  frame.  Not  once  had  he  seen  her 
since  that  wretched  night  in  the  library, — in  that  man  Noel's  arms. 
Not  once  had  he  permitted  the  thought  of  seeing  her  to  find  a  lodge 
ment.  But  all  was  different  now :  she  was  well-nigh  crushed,  heart 
broken  ;  she  had  been  deceived  and  tricked  ;  she  was  here  practically 
friendless.  "  I  well  know  that  at  your  hands  I  deserve  no  such  mercy," 
she  had  written,  "  but  a  hopeless  woman  begs  that  you  will  come  to 
her  for  a  few  moments, — for  a  very  few  words." 

And  now  he  heard  her  foot-fall  on  the  stairs.  She  entered,  slowly, 
and  then  stopped  short  almost  at  the  threshold.  Heavens !  how  he 
had  aged  and  changed  !  How  deep  were  the  lines  about  the  kind  gray 
eyes !  how  sad  and  worn  was  the  stern,  soldierly  face  !  Her  eyes  filled 
with  tears  on  the  very  instant,  and  she  hovered  there,  irresolute,  not 
knowing  what  to  do,  how  to  address  him.  It  was  Lane  that  came  to 
the  rescue.  For  a  moment  he  stood  there  appalled  as  his  eyes  fell  upon 
the  woman  whom  he  had  so  utterly — so  faithfully  loved.  Where  was 
all  the  playful  light  that  so  thrilled  and  bewitched  him  as  it  flickered 
about  the  corners  of  her  pretty  mouth  ?  Whither  had  fled  the  bright 
coloring,  the  radiance,  the  gladness,  that  lived  in  that  exquisite  face? 
Was  this  heavy-eyed,  pallid,  nerveless  being,  standing  with  hanging 
head  before  him,  the  peerless  queen  he  had  so  loyally  and  devotedly 
served, — whose  faintest  wish  was  to  him  a  royal  mandate, — to  kiss 
whose  soft  white  hand  was  a  joy  unutterable?  All  this  flashed  through 
his  mind  in  the  instant  of  her  irresolute  pause.  Then  the  great  pity 
of  a  strong  and  manful  heart,  the  tenderness  that  lives  ever  in  the 
bravest,  sent  him  forward  to  her  side.  All  thought  of  self  and  suffer 
ing,  of  treachery  and  concealment  and  deception,  vanished  at  once  at 
the  sight  of  her  bitter  woe.  His  own  brave  eyes  filled  up  with  tears 
he  would  gladly  have  hidden,  but  that  she  saw,  and  was  comforted. 
He  took  her  limp,  nerveless  hand  and  led  her  to  a  chair,  saying  only 
her  name, — "  Mrs.  Noel." 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  115 

For  several  minutes  she  could  not  speak,  but  wept  unrestrainedly, 
he,  poor  fellow,  walking  the  floor  the  while,  longing  to  comfort  her, 
yet  powerless.  What  could  he  sa"y  ?  What  could  he  do  ?  At  last  she 
seemed  to  regain  her  self-control. 

"  Captain  Lane,"  she  said,  "  it  is  useless  for  me  to  tell  you  how 
much  I  have  learned,  since  coming  here,  of  which  I  was  ignorant  before. 
Every  effort  has  been  made  to  spare  me ;  people  have  been  so  considerate 
and  kind,  that  the  truth,  as  I  am  beginning  to  see,  has  been  kept  from 
me.  Mr.  Falconer,  Captain  Noel's — our  lawyer,  has  at  last  admitted  that 
almost  everything  depends  upon  your  evidence.  Forgive  me,  if  you 
can,  that  I  believed  for  a  while  that  you  inspired  the  charges  against 
him.  I  know  now  that  you  refused  to  press  the  matter,  and  that — that 
I  am  not  to  blame  any  one.  In  his  deep  misfortune  my  duty  is  with 
my  husband,  and  he— consented  that  I  should  see  you.  Captain  Lane," 
she  said,  rising  as  she  spoke,  "  do  not  try  to  spare  my  feelings  now.  I 
am  prepared  for  anything, — ready  to  share  his  downfall.  If  you  are 
asked  as  to  the  contents  of  the  note  you  sent  him  just  before  the  fight, 
must  you  tell  what  they  were  ?  Do  you  recall  them  ?" 

"  I  must,  Mrs.  Noel.  I  remember  almost  the  exact  words,"  he 
replied,  gently,  sorrowfully. 

"  But  that  is  all,  is  it  not  ?  You  know  nothing  more  about  the 
delay  in  reaching  you?"  And  her  eyes,  piteous  in  entreaty,  in  shame, 
in  suffering,  sought  one  instant  his  sad  face,  then  fell  before  the  sorrow 
and  sympathy  in  his. 

For  a  moment  there  was  no  answer ;  and  at  last  she  looked  up, 
alarmed. 

"  Mrs.  Noel,"  he  said,  "  I  could  not  help  it.  I  was  eagerly  await 
ing  their  coming.  I  saw  them  approach  the  ford  and  the  pass.  I  saw 
that  there  were  only  six  Apaches  to  resist  them ;  and  the  next  thing  I 
saw  was  the  retreat." 

"  Oh,  Captain  Lane !"  she  cried,  "  must  you  testify  as  to  this  ?" 
A  nd  her  trembling  hands  were  clasped  in  misery.  "  Is  there  no  way, 
— no  way?" 

"  Even  if  there  were,"  he  answered,  slowly  and  mournfully,  "  Mr. 
Mason's  testimony  and  that  of  the  men  would  be  still  more  conclusive." 

Throwing  herself  upon  the  sofa,  the  poor  girl  gave  way  to  a  fit 
of  uncontrollable  weeping ;  and  Lane  stood  helplessly,  miserably  by. 
Once  he  strove  to  speak,  but  she  could  not  listen.  He  brought  her  a 
glass  of  water  presently  and  begged  her  to  drink  it :  there  was  still 


116  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

something  he  had  to  suggest.  She  took  the  goblet  from  his  hand  and 
looked  up  eagerly  through  her  tears.  He  was  thinking  only  of  her — 
for  her — now.  The  man  who  had  robbed  him  of  happiness,  of  love, 
of  wife  and  home  and  hope,  and  who  had  done  the  utmost  that  he 
dared  to  rob  him  of  honor  and  his  soldier  reputation, — the  man  now 
wretchedly  listening  overhead  to  the  murmur  of  voices  below, — he 
forgot  entirely  except  as  the  man  she  loved. 

"  Mrs.  Noel,  your  friends — his  friends — are  most  influential.  Can 
they  not  be  telegraphed  to  that  his  resignation  will  be  tendered  ?  Can 
they  not  stop  the  trial  in  that  way  ?" 

"  It  is  hopeless.  It  has  been  tried,  and  refused.  If  he  is  found 
guilty  there  is  nothing  left, — nothing  left,"  she  moaned,  "  but  to  take 
him  back  to  the  East  with  me,  and,  with  the  little  we  have  now,  to  buy 
some  quiet  home  in  the  country,  where  our  wretched  past  need  not  be 
known, — where  we  can  be  forgotten, — where  my  poor  husband  need  not 
have  to  hang  his  head  in  shame.  Oh,  God  !  oh,  God  !  what  a  ruined 
life !" 

"  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  for  you,  Mrs.  Noel?  Listen  :  that  court 
cannot  begin  the — the  case  to-morrow.  Four  members  are  still  to 
come.  It  may  be  two  days  yet, — perhaps  three.  Perhaps  Mr.  Withers 
and  his  friends  do  not  appreciate  the  danger  and  have  not  brought 
pressure  to  bear  on  the  President,  but — forgive  me  for  the  pain  this 
must  give  you — there  are  other,  new  charges  coming  from  division 
head -quarters,  that  I  fear  will  harm  him  still  more.  I  grieve  to  have 
to  tell  you  this.  Try  and  make  Mr.  Withers  understand.  Try  and  get 
the  resignation  through.  If  you  will  see  Mr.  Falconer  and — and  the 
captain  now,  I  can  get  the  telegraph  operator." 

"  What  charges — what  new  accusations  do  you  mean  ?"  she  asked, 
her  eyes  dilating  with  dread.  "Are  we  not  crushed  enough  already? 
Oh,  forgive  me,  Captain  Lane !  I  ought  not  to  speak  bitterly,  you — 
you  have  been  so  good,  so  gentle.  You,  the  last  man  on  earth  from 
whom  I  should  seek  mercy,"  she  broke  forth  impetuously, — "you  are 
yet  the  one  to  whom  I  first  appeal.  Oh,  if  after  this  night  I  never  see 
you  again,  believe  that  I  suffer,  that  I  realize  the  wrong  I  have  done. 
I  was  never  worthy  the  faintest  atom  of  your  regard  ;  but  there's  one 
thing — one  thing  you  must  hear.  I  wrote  you  fully,  frankly,  im 
ploringly,  before — before  you  came — and  saw.  Indeed,  indeed,  I  had 
waited  days  for  your  reply,  refusing  to  see  him  until  after  papa  died  ; 
and  then  I  was  weak  and  ill.  You  never  read  the  letter.  You  sent 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  117 

them  all  back  unopened.  I  cannot  look  in  your  face.  It  may  have 
been  hard,  for  a  while,  but  the  time  will  soon  come  when  you  will 
thank  God — thank  God — I  proved  faithless." 

And  then,  leaving  him  to  make  his  own  way  from  the  house,  she 
rushed  sobbing  to  her  room.  When  next  he  saw  her,  Reginald,  her 
brother,  with  Lowndes  and  his  tearful  wife,  was  lifting  her  into  the 
ambulance  that  was  to  take  them  to  the  railway,  and  the  doctor  rode 
away  beside  them.  But  this  was  ten  days  after. 

True  to  Lane's  prediction,  the  court  met  and  adjourned  on  the 
following  day.  Colonel  Stannard  and  Major  Turner  telegraphed  that 
they  were  delayed  en  route  to  the  railway,  and  nothing  was  heard  from 
the  other  missing  members.  Two  days  more  found  the  court  in  readi 
ness,  but  the  trial  did  not  begin.  There  arrived  on  the  express  from 
the  East,  the  night  before  all  seemed  ready  for  the  opening  session, 
Lieutenant  Bowen,  of  the  cavalry  recruiting-service,  with  two  guards 
who  escorted  the  ex-clerk  Taintor. 

Telegrams  for  Captain  Noel  had  been  coming  in  quick  succession, 
but  he*  himself  was  not  seen.  It  was  Lowndes  who  took  the  replies 
to  the  office.  The  first  meeting  of  the  court  was  to  have  occurred  on 
Monday.  Tuesday  evening  the  judge-advocate  sent  to  the  accused 
officer  a  copy  of  the  additional  specifications  to  the  charge  of  conduct 
unbecoming  an  officer  and  a  gentleman,  and  notified  him  that  the  wit 
nesses  had  just  arrived  by  train. 

At  four  o'clock  Wednesday  morning  Mrs.  Lowndes  was  aroused  by 
a  tapping  at  her  door,  and  recognized  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Noel  callirfg 
her  name.  Hastily  she  arose  and  went  to  her,  finding  her  trembling 
and  terrified.  Gordon,  she  said,  had  been  in  such  misery  that  he  would 
not  undress  and  try  to  sleep,  but  had  been  restlessly  pacing  the  floor  until 
after  midnight.  Then  he  had  gone  down  to  make  some  memoranda, 
he  said,  at  the  desk  in  which  he  and  Mr.  Falconer  had  their  papers, 
and,  as  she  could  not  sleep,  she  soon  followed  ;  but  he  was  not  there. 
Occasionally  he  had  gone  out  late  at  night  and  walked  about  the  parade 
after  every  one  but  the  guard  had  gone  to  bed,  and  she  thought  he 
must  have  done  so  this  time,  and  so  waited,  and  waited,  and  peered 
out  on  the  parade  and  could  see  nothing  of  him.  At  last  she  could 
bear  it  no  longer. 

Lowndes  had  heard  the  sobbing  voice  and  one  or  two  words.  He 
was  up  and  dressed  in  no  time,  and  speedily  found  the  officer  of  the 


118  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

day.     "  Do   you  think  he  could   have  made   away  with    himself? — 
suicide  ?" 

"  Suicide  !  no  !"  answered  Lieutenant  Tracy.  "  He's  too  big  9 
coward  even  for  that !" 

No  sentry  had  seen  or  heard  anything  of  him.  The  whole  post 
was  searched  at  daybreak,  and  without  success.  A  neighboring  settle 
ment,  infested  by  miners,  stock-men,  gamblers,  and  fugitives  from  jus 
tice,  was  visited,  but  nothing  was  learned  that  would  tend  to  dispel  the 
mystery.  One  or  two  hard  citizens — saloon-proprietors — poked  their 
tongues  in  their  cheeks  and  intimated  that  "  if  properly  approached" 
they  could  give  valuable  information  ;  but  no  one  believed  them.  That 
night,  deserted  and  well-nigh  distracted,  Mabel  Noel  lay  moaning  in 
her  little  room,  suffering  heaven  only  knows  what  tortures ;  far  from 
the  yearning  mother  arms,  far  from  home  and  kindred,  far  even  from 
the  recreant  husband  for  whose  poor  sake  she  had  abandoned  all  to  fol 
low  him,  for  better  for  worse,  for  richer  for  poorer,  in  sickness  or  in 
health, — only  to  be  left  to  the  pity  and  care  of  strangers. 

But  she  was  in  an  army  home  and  among  loving,  loyal,  simple 
hearts.  The  women,  one  and  all,  thronged  to  the  little  cottage,  im 
ploring  that  they  might  "  help  in  some  way."  The  men,  when  they 
were  not  damning  the  runaway,  were  full  of  suggestion  as  to  the  course 
to  be  pursued.  Mabel  would  accept  only  one  explanation  of  his  dis 
appearance  :  crazed  by  misfortunes,  he  had  taken  his  own  life ;  he  had 
said  he  would.  But  the  regiment  could  not  believe  it,  and  in  forty- 
eight  hours  had  traced  him,  on  the  saloon-keeper's  horse,  over  to  the 
Southern  Pacific,  and  thence  down  to  El  Paso.  More  than  one  man 
gave  a  sigh  of  relief  that  the  whole  thing  could  be  so  easily  settled  with 
out  the  scandal  of  all  that  evidence  being  published  to  the  world.  The 
court  met  and  adjourned  pending  the  receipt  of  orders  from  the  con 
vening  authority.  The  telegraph  speedily  directed  the  return  to  their 
stations  of  the  several  members.  Lieutenant  Bowen  went  back  to  the 
East,  leaving  Taintor  in  the  guard-house,  and  in  a  week  Reginald  Vin 
cent  came  to  take  his  sister  home  and  to  whisper  that  Gordon  was  safe 
in  the  city  of  Mexico, — Mr.  Withers  was  sending  him  money  there ; 
and  so  from  her  bed  of  illness,  suffering,  and  humiliation  the  poor  girl 
was  almost  carried  to  her  train,  and  all  Fort  Gregg  could  have  wept  at 
sight  of  her  wan  and  hopeless  face. 

She  shrank  from  seeing  or  meeting  any  of  her  old  associates,  yet 
was  eager  to  reach  her  mother's  roof,  fondly  believing  that  there  she 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  119 

would  find  letters  from  her  husband.  It  hurt  her  inexpressibly  that 
he  should  have  fled  without  one  word  to  her  of  his  intentions ;  but  she 
could  forgive  it  because  of  the  suffering  and  misery  that  bore  him  down 
and  unsettled  his  mind.  It  stung  her  that  Mr.  Withers,  not  she, 
should  be  the  first  to  learn  of  his  place  of  refuge;  but  perhaps  he 
thought  she  had  gone  East  at  once,  and  so  had  written  there.  She 
attributed  his  desertion  to  the  strain  to  which  he  had  been  subjected  ; 
but  she  had  been  spared  the  sight  of  those  last  "  specifications."  Her 
first  inquiry,  after  one  long,  blessed  clasping  in  her  mother's  arms,  after 
the  burst  of  tears  that  could  not  be  restrained,  was  for  letters  from 
him;  and  she  was  amazed, incredulous,  when  told  there  were  none. 
Mr.  Withers  was  sent  for  at  once  :  that  eminent  citizen  would  gladly 
have  dodged  the  ordeal,  but  could  not.  He  could  only  say  that  two 
telegrams  and  two  drafts  had  reached  him  from  Noel,  and  that  he  had 
honored  the  latter  at  sight  and  would  see  that  he  lacked  for  nothing. 

She  would  have  insisted  on  going  to  join  him  in  his  exile,  but  he 
had  sent  no  word  or  line ;  he  had  ignored  her  entirely.  He  might  be 
ill,  was  »the  first  thought ;  but  Mr.  Withers  assured  her  he  was  phys 
ically  perfectly  well.  "  Everything  is  being  done  now  to  quietly  end 
the  trouble,"  said  Mr.  Withers.  "  We  will  see  to  it  at  Washington  that 
his  resignation  is  now  accepted ;  for  they  will  never  get  him  before  a 
court,  and  might  as  well  make  up  their  minds  to  it.  They  cannot  drop 
or  dismiss  him  for  a  year,  with  all  their  red-tape  methods  and  their 
prate  about  the  '  honor  of  the  service.'  I've  seen  enough  of  the  army 
in  the  last  three  months  to  convince  me  it's  no  place  for  a  gentleman. 
No,  my  dear,  you  stay  here, — or  go  up  to  the  mountains.  We'll  have 
him  there  to  join  you  in  a  month." 

But  the  authorities  proved  obdurate.  Even  the  millionaire  failed 
to  move  the  War  Secretary.  Unless  Captain  Noel  came  back  and  stood 
trial,  he  would  be  "  dropped  for  desertion"  ("  and,  if  he  came  back 
and  stood  trial,  would  probably  be  kicked  out  as  a  coward  and  liar," 
thought  to  himself  the  official  who  sat  a  silent  listener).  This  Noel 
would  not  do.  Withers  sent  him  to  Vera  Cruz  on  a  pseudo  business- 
visit,  and  Mabel,  silent,  sad-faced,  but  weeping  no  more,  went  to  a 
little  resort  in  the  West  Virginia  mountains. 

Meantime,  another  court  had  been  convened,  another  deserter  tried, 
convicted,  and  sentenced,  and  before  being  taken  to  prison  he  made  full 
statement  to  Captain  Lane  and  two  officers  called  in  as  witnesses.  This 
was  Taintor.  He  had  known  Captain  Noel  ever  since  his  entry  into 


120  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

service.  Taintor  was  .an  expert  penman,  a  gambler,  and  at  times  a  hard 
drinker.  He  had  enlisted  in  the  troop  of  which  Noel  was  second  lieu 
tenant  while  they  were  in  Tennessee,  and  had  deserted,  after  forging 
the  post-quartermaster's  name  to  two  checks  and  getting  the  money. 
The  regiment  went  to  the  Plains :  he  was  never  apprehended,  and  long 
years  afterwards  drifted  from  a  position  in  the  quartermaster's  d6p6t  at 
Jeffersonville  to  a  re-enlistment  and  a  billet  as  clerk  in  the  recruiting 
rendezvous  at  the  Queen  City.  Knowing  that  Noel  would  recognize 
him,  he  deserted  there,  as  has  been  told,  taking  all  the  money  he  could 
secure  by  forged  checks  for  small  amounts  which  he  trusted  would  not 
excite  suspicion.  But  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  a  young  woman,  and 
she  was  dependent  on  him.  He  came  back  to  the  neighborhood  after 
he  thought  the  hue  and  cry  was  over,  was  shadowed  and  arrested  by 
the  police,  and  had  given  himself  up  for  lost  when  Captain  Noel  was 
brought  to  his  cell  to  identify  him.  He  could  hardly  believe  his  senses 
when  the  captain  said  it  was  all  a  mistake.  Then  he  was  released,  and 
went  to  work  again  across  the  river,  and  one  night  Noel  came, — told 
him  he  knew  him  perfectly  and  would  keep  his  secret  provided  he 
would  "make  himself  useful."  It  soon  turned  out  that  what  was 
wanted  was  the  imitation  of  Captain  Lane's  signature  on  one  or  two 
papers  whose  contents  he  did  not  see,  and  the  type-writing  of  some 
letters,  one  of  which,  without  signature  of  any  kind,  and  referring  to 
some  young  lady,  her  secret  meetings  with  Captain  Noel,  and  saying, 
"  You  are  being  betrayed,"  was  sent  to  Captain  Lane  at  Fort  Graham. 
Very  soon  after  this  Captain  Lane  came  back.  Taintor  again  fled  until 
he  knew  his  old  commander  had  gone  away,  and  then,  venturing  home, 
was  rearrested,  as  has  also  been  told. 

Lane  knew  the  anonymous  letter  well  enough,  but  now  for  the  first 
time  saw  its  object.  It  was  to  make  him  accuse  Mabel  Vincent  of 
deceit  and  faithlessness  and  so  bring  about  a  rupture  of  the  engagement 
which,  at  that  time,  Noel  saw  no  other  means  of  removing  as  the  one 
obstacle  that  stood  in  the  way  of  his  hopes. 

But  what  were  the  other  papers? 

August  came,  and  with  it  the  rumors  of  the  appearance  of  the 
dreaded  vdmito  at  Vera  Cruz ;  but  in  the  remote  and  peaceful  nook 
where  mother  and  daughter — two  silent  and  sorrowing  women — were 
living  in  retirement,  no  tidings  came.  Vainly  Mabel  watched  the 
mails  for  letters — if  only  one — from  him.  She  had  written  under 
cover  to  Mr.  Withers,  but  even  that  evoked  no  reply. 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  121 

One  sunshiny  afternoon  they  were  startled  by  the  sudden  arrival 
of  Regy.  He  sought  to  avoid  question  and  to  draw  his  mother  to  one 
side,  but  Mabel  was  upon  him. 

"  You  have  news !"  she  said,  her  white  face  set,  her  hands  firmly 
seizing  his  arm.  "  What  is  it  ?  Have  they  dismissed  him  ?" 

"  They  can  never  dismiss — never  harm  him  more,  Mabel,"  was  the 

solemn  answer. 

********* 

Some  months  afterwards  Mrs.  Vincent  received  a  packet  of  papers 
that  belonged  to  the  late  Captain  Noel.  Mabel  had  been  sent  to 
Florida  for  the  winter,  and  was  spending  her  early  widowhood  with 
kind  and  loving  friends.  The  consul  at  Vera  Cruz  had  written  to 
Mr.  Withers  full  particulars  of  his  cousin's  death,— one  of  the  first 
victims  of  the  vdmito, — and  had  sent  these  papers  with  the  formal  cer 
tificates  of  the  Mexican  officials.  Mr.  Woodrow,  one  of  the  executors 
of  Mr.  Vincent's  estate,  showed  singular  desire  to  examine  these  papers, 
but  the  widow  thought  they  should  be  opened  only  by  her  daughter. 
It  was  not  until  then  that,  with  much  hesitancy,  the  gentleman  explained 
that  Mr.  Vincent  had  given  him  to  understand  that  he  had  intrusted 
some  papers  to  Captain  Noel  which  that  officer  had  promised  to  send  at 
once  to  his  old  friend  Captain  Lane.  Mrs.  Vincent  could  learn  no 
more  from  him,  but  she  lost  no  time  in  searching  the  packet. 

Within  twenty-four  hours  Mabel  was  summoned  home  by  tele 
graph,  and  there  for  the  first  time  learned  that  to  her  father's  partner, 
for  the  use  of  the  firm  in  their  sore  straits  of  nearly  two  years  before, 
Captain  Lane  had  given  the  sum  of  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  and  that 
among  Captain  Noel's  papers  was  what  purported  to  be  a  receipt  in  full 
for  the  return  of  the  sum  from  Mr.  Vincent,  which  receipt  was  signed 
apparently  by  Frederick  Lane  and  dated  July  2,  188-.  But  this, 
said  Mr.  Woodrow,  must  be  a  mistake :  Mr.  Vincent  had  assured  him 
late  in  July  that  he  had  not  repaid  it,  but  that  Clark  had  his  instruc 
tions  to  repay  it  at  once,  and  all  Clark's  books,  papers,  and  receipts  had 
been  examined,  and  showed  that  no  such  payment  had  been  made. 

"  It  simply  means  that  the  very  roof  under  which  we  are  sheltered 
is  not  ours,  but  that  noble  fellow's,"  said  Mrs.  Vincent ;  and  that  night 
she  wrote,  and  poured  forth  her  heart  to  him,  while  Mabel  locked  her 
self  in  her  room. 

No  answer  came.  Then  Mr.  Woodrow  made  inquiries  of  the 
officer  at  the  rendezvous,  and  learned  that  Captain  Lane  had  gone  to 
F  11 


122  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

Europe  with  leave  of  absence  for  a  year ;  and  there  her  letter  followed 
him.  She  demanded,  as  a  right,  to  know  the  truth.  She  had  given  the 
executors  to  understand  that  the  debt  must  be  paid,  if  they  had  to  sell 
the  old  homestead  to  do  it.  She  would  be  glad  to  go  and  live  in 
retirement  anywhere. 

Not  only  did  she,  but  so  did  Mr.  Woodrow,  receive  at  last  a  letter 
from  distant  Athens.  The  widow  sobbed  and  laughed  and  pressed 
her  letter  to  her  heart,  while  Woodrow  read  his  writh  moistened  eyes, 
a  suspicious  resort  to  his  cambric  handkerchief,  and  an  impatient  con 
signment  of  all  such  confounded  quixotic,  unbusinesslike  cavalrymen 
to — to  the  deuce,  by  Jupiter ;  and  then  he  went  off  to  show  it  to  his 
fellow-executors. 

The  long  summer  wore  away.  Autumn  again  found  mother  and 
daughter  and  Regy  at  the  dear  old  home,  but  light  and  laughter  had 
not  been  known  within  the  massive  walls  since  the  father's  death.  The 
tragedy  in  Mabel's  life,  coming  so  quickly  after  that  event,  seemed  to 
have  left  room  for  naught  but  mourning.  "  She  has  so  aged,  so 
changed,"  wrote  Mrs.  Vincent  on  one  of  the  few  occasions  when  she 
wrote  of  her  at  all  to  him,  and  she  wrote  every  month.  "  I  could  even 
say  that  it  has  improved  her.  The  old  gayety  and  joyousness  are  gone, 
and  with  them  the  wilfulness.  She  thinks  more — lives  more — for 
others  now." 

Winter  came  again, — the  second  winter  of  Mabel's  widowhood, — 
and  she  was  urged  to  visit  the  Noels  at  their  distant  home  ;  but  she 
seemed  reluctant  until  her  mother  bade  her  go.  She  was  still  wearing 
her  widow's  weeds,  and  her  lovely  face  was  never  sweeter  in  her  girl 
hood  days  than  now  in  that  frame  of  crape.  Of  the  brief  months  of 
her  married  life  they  never  spoke,  but  the  Noels  loved  her  because  of 
her  devotion  to  him  when  not  a  friend  was  left.  In  early  March  the 
news  from  home  began  to  give  her  uneasiness  :  "  mamma  did  not  seem 
well,"  was  the  explanation,  and  it  was  decided  that  they  would  go  on 
as  far  as  Washington  with  her,  and  spend  a  day  or  two  there,  when 
Reginald  would  meet  and  escort  her  home. 

And  so,  one  bright  morning  in  that  most  uncertain  of  mouths, 
Mabel  Noel  with  her  sister-in-law  and  that  lady's  husband  stood  at  the 
elevator  landing,  waiting  to  be  taken  down  to  the  hall-way  of  their  hotel. 
Presently  the  lighted  cage  came  sliding  from  aloft.  Mrs.  Lanier  entered, 
followed  by  the  others.  Two  gentlemen  seated  on  one  side  removed 
their  hats,  and  the  next  instant,  before  she  could  take  her  seat,  the  lady 


TWO  SOLDIERS.  123 

saw  one  of  them  rise,  bow,  and  extend  his  hand  to  Mabel,  saying, 
with  no  little  embarrassment  and  much  access  of  color,  something  to 
the  effect  that  this  was  a  great  surprise, — a  statement  which  her  fair 
sister-in-law  evidently  could  find  no  words  to  contradict,  even  had  she 
desired  so  to  do.  Neither  of  the  two  seemed  to  think  of  any  others 
who  were  present.  Indeed,  there  was  hardly  time  to  ask  or  answer 
questions  before  they  had  to  step  out  and  give  place  to  people  desiring 
to  ascend ;  and  then  the  gentleman  nearly  tumbled  over  a  chair  in 
the  awkwardness  of  his  adieu.  Mrs.  Noel's  face  was  averted  as  they 
left  the  hall,  but  all  the  more  was  Mrs.  Lanier  desirous  of  questioning  : 

"  Who  was  your  friend,  Mabel  ?" 

And  Mabel  had  to  turn  or  be  ungracious.  Her  face  was  glowing 
as  she  answered,  simply, — 

"  Captain  Lane." 

An  hour  later  Mrs.  Lanier  said  to  her  husband, — 

"  That  was  the  man  to  whom  she  was  said  to  be  engaged  before 
Gordon  ;  and  did  you  see  her  face  ?" 

Once  again  they  met, — this  time  at  the  entrance  to  the  dining-room  ; 
and  there  Captain  Lane  bowed  gravely  to  "  my  sister,  Mrs.  Lanier, — 
Mr.  Lanier,"  when  he  was  presented.  The  lady  seemed  distant  and 
chilling.  The  man  held  out  his  hand  and  said,  "  I'm  glad  to  know 
you,  captain.  I  wish  you  could  dine  with  us."  But  Lane  had  dined, 
and  was  going  out. 

The  third  day  came,  and  no  Reginald.  Expecting  him  every  mo 
ment,  Mabel  declined  to  go  with  her  friends  on  a  shopping-tour,  and 
was  seated  in  her  room,  thinking,  when  there  came  a  tap  at  the  door : 
a  card  for  Mrs.  Noel,  and  the  gentleman  begged  to  see  her  in  the  parlor. 
Her  color  heightened  as  she  read  the  name.  Her  heart  beat  flutteringly 
as  she  descended  the  stairs.  He  was  standing  close  by  the  door,  but 
he  took  her  hand  and  led  her  to  the  window  at  their  right. 

"  You  have  news — from  mamma  !"  she  cried.  "  Tell  me — instantly !" 

"  Mr.  Woodrow  thinks  it  best  that  you  should  come,  Mrs.  Noel ; 
and  she  has  sent  for  me.  Reginald  went  directly  West  last  night. 
Will  you  trust  yourself  to  my  care  ?  and  can  you  be  ready  for  the  next 
train  ? — in  two  hours  ?" 

Ready  !  She  could  go  instantly.  Was  there  no  train  sooner  ?  She 
implored  him  to  tell  if  her  mother's  illness  was  fatal.  He  could  only 
say  that  Mrs.  Vincent  had  been  quite  suddenly  seized ;  and  yet  they 


124  TWO  SOLDIERS. 

hoped  she  would  rally.  Mabel  wept  unrestrainedly,  upbraiding  herself 
bitterly  for  her  dilatory  journey ;  but  she  was  ready,  and  had  gained 
composure  when  it  was  time  to  start.  Mrs.  Lauier's  farewell  was 
somewhat  strained,  but  the  captain  seemed  to  notice  nothing. 

Unobtrusively,  yet  carefully,  he  watched  over  her  on  the  home 
ward  way.  Tenderly  he  lifted  her  to  the  pavement  of  the  familiar 
old  depdt,  where  Regy  met  them.  Mamma  was  better,  but  very  feeble. 
She  wanted  to  see  them  both. 

Three  days  the  gentle  spirit  lingered.  Thrice  did  the  loving  woman 
send  for  Lane,  and,  holding  his  hand  in  hers,  whisper  blessing  and 
prayerful  charge  as  to  the  future.  Regy  wondered  what  it  could  all 
mean.  Mabel,  on  her  knees  in  her  own  little  room,  pleading  for  her 
devoted  mother's  life,  knew  well  how  to  the  very  last  that  mother 
clung  to  him,  but  only  vaguely  did  she  reason  why. 

At  last  the  solemn  moment  came,  and  the  hush  of  twilight,  the 
placid,  painless  close  of  a  pure  and  gracious  life,  were  broken  only  by 
the  sobbing  of  her  kneeling  children  and  of  the  little  knot  of  friends 
who,  dearly  loving,  were  with  her  at  the  gate  into  the  new  and  radiant 
world  beyond. 

One  soft  spring  evening  a  few  weeks  later  Mabel  stood  by  the 
window  in  the  old  library,  an  open  letter  in  her  hand.  Twice  had  she 
looked  at  the  clock  upon  the  mantel,  and  it  was  late  when  Frederick 
Lane  appeared.  Mr.  Woodrow  had  unexpectedly  detained  him,  he  ex 
plained,  but  now  nothing  remained  but  to  say  good-by  to  her.  Hid 
leave  was  up.  The  old  troop  was  waiting  for  him. 

"  Will  you  try  to  do  as  I  asked  you,  and  write  to  me  once  in  a 
while  ?"  he  said. 

"  I  will.  It  was  mother's  wish."  But  her  head  sank  lower  as  she 
spoke. 

"  I  know,"  he  replied.  "  For  almost  a  year  past  she  had  written 
regularly  to  me,  and  I  shall  miss  it — more  than  I  can  say.  And  now 
— it  is  good-by.  God  bless  you,  Mabel !" 

And  still  she  stood,  inert,  passive,  her  eyes  downcast,  her  bosom 
rapidly  rising  and  falling  under  its  mourning  garb.  He  took  her 
hand  and  held  it  lingeringly  one  minute,  then  turned  slowly  away. 

At  the  portiere  he  stopped  for  one  last  look.  She  was  still  standing 
there,  drooping.  The  fair  head  seemed  bowing  lower  and  lower,  the 
white  hands  were  clasping  nervously. 


TWO  SOLDIERS. 


125 


"  Do  you  know  you  have  not  said  good-by,  Mabel  ?" 
She  is  bending  like  the  lily  now,  turning  away  to  hide  the  rush  of 
tears.     Only  faintly  does  he  catch  the  whispered  words, — 
"Oh!  I  cannot!" 


11* 


•   DUNRAVEN   RANCH. 


DUNRAVEN    EANCH. 


I. 

IT  was  nearly  midnight,  and  still  the  gay  party  lingered  on  the  ve 
randa.  There  had  been  a  fortnight  of  "getting  settled"  at  the 
new  post,  preceded  by  a  month  of  marching  that  had  brought  the 
battalion  from  distant  service  to  this  strange,  Texan  station.  The  new 
comers  had  been  hospitably  welcomed  by  the  officers  of  the  little  gar 
rison  of  infantry,  and  now,  in  recognition  of  their  many  courtesies,  the 
field-officer  commanding  the  arriving  troops  had  been  entertaining  the 
resident  officers  and  ladies  at  dinner.  The  colonel  was  a  host  in  him 
self,  but  preferred  not  to  draw  too  heavily  on  his  reserves  of  anecdote 
and  small-talk,  so  he  had  called  in  two  of  his  subalterns  to  assist  in  the 
pleasant  duty  of  being  attentive  to  the  infantry  ladies,  and  just  now, 
at  11.45  P.M.,  he  was  wondering  if  Lieutenant  Perry  had  not  too  liter 
ally  construed  his  instructions,  for  that  young  gentleman  was  devoting 
himself  to  Mrs.  Belknap  in  a  manner  so  marked  as  to  make  the  cap 
tain,  her  lawful  lord  and  master,  manifestly  uneasy. 

Mrs.  Belknap,  however,  seemed  to  enjoy  the  situation  immensely. 
She  was  a  pretty  woman  at  most  times,  as  even  her  rivals  admitted. 
She  was  a  beautiful  woman  at  all  times,  was  the  verdict  of  the  officers 
of  the  regiment  when  they  happened  to  speak  of  the  matter  among 
themselves.  She  was  dark,  with  lustrous  eyes  and  sweeping  lashes, 
with  coral  lips  and  much  luxuriance  of  tress,  and  a  way  of  glancing 
sideways  from  under  her  heavily-fringed  eyelids  that  the  younger  and 
more  impressionable  men  found  quite  irresistible  when  accorded  the 
rare  luxury  of  a  tdte-ct-tdte.  Belkuap  was  a  big  and  boisterous  man ; 
Mrs.  Belknap  was  small  in  stature,  and  soft — very  soft — of  voice.  Bel 
knap  was  either  brusquely  repellent  or  oppressively  cordial  in  manner  ; 
Mrs.  Belknap  was  either  gently  and  exasperatingly  indifferent  to  those 
whom  she  did  not  care  to  attract,  or  caressingly  sweet  to  those  whose 
F*  129 


130  DUNRAVJSN  EANCH. 

attentions  she  desired.  In  their  own  regiment  the  young  officers  soon 
found  that  unless  they  wished  to  be  involved  in  an  unpleasantness  with 
Belknap  it  was  best  to  be  only  very  moderately  devoted  to  his  pretty  wife, 
and  those  to  whom  an  unpleasantness  with  the  big  captain  might  have 
had  no  terrors  of  consequence  were  deterred  by  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Bel- 
knap's  devotee  among  the  "  youngsters"  had  invariably  become  an 
object  of  coldness  and  aversion  to  the  other  dames  and  damsels  of  the 
garrison.  Very  short-lived,  therefore,  had  been  the  little  flirtations 
that  sprang  up  from  time  to  time  in  those  frontier  posts  wherein  Cap 
tain  and  Mrs.  Belknap  were  among  the  chief  ornaments  of  society ; 
but  now  matters  seemed  to  be  taking  other  shape.  From  the  very  day 
that  handsome  Ned  Perry  dismounted  in  front  of  Belknap's  quarters 
and  with  his  soldierly  salute  reported  to  the  then  commanding  officer 
that  Colonel  Braiuard  and  his  battalion  of  cavalry  would  arrive  in 
the  course  of  two  or  three  hours,  Mrs.  Belknap  had  evinced  a  con 
tentment  in  his  society  and  assumed  an  air  of  quasi-proprietorship  that 
served  to  annoy  her  garrison  sisters  more  than  a  little.  For  the  time 
being  all  the  cavalrymen  were  bachelors,  either  by  actual  rank  or  "  by 
brevet,"  as  none  of  the  ladies  of  the  — th  accompanied  the  battalion  on 
its  march,  and  none  were  expected  until  the  stations  of  the  regiment  in 
its  new  department  had  been  definitely  settled.  The  post  surgeon,  too, 
was  living  a  life  of  single  blessedness  as  the  early  spring  wore  on,  for 
his  good  wife  had  betaken  herself,  with  the  children,  to  the  distant  East 
as  soon  as  the  disappearance  of  the  winter's  snows  rendered  staging 
over  the  hard  prairie  roads  a  matter  of  no  great  danger  or  discom 
fort. 

It  was  the  doctor  himself  who,  seated  in  an  easy-chair  at  the  end 
of  the  veranda,  first  called  the  colonel's  attention  to  Perry's  devotional 
attitude  at  Mrs.  Belknap's  side.  She  was  reclining  in  a  hammock,  one 
little,  slippered  foot  occasionally  touching  the  floor  and  imparting  a 
gentle,  swinging  motion  to  the  affair,  and  making  a  soothing  swish- 
swish  of  skirts  along  the  matting  underneath.  Her  jewelled  hands 
looked  very  slender  and  fragile  and  white  as  they  gleamed  in  the  soft 
light  that  shone  from  the  open  windows  of  the  parlor.  They  were 
busied  in  straightening  out  the  kinks  in  the  gold  cord  of  his  forage-cap 
and  in  rearranging  a  little  silken  braid  and  tassel  that  was  fastened  in 
clumsy,  man-like  fashion  to  one  of  the  buttons  at  the  side;  he,  seated 
in  a  camp-chair,  was  bending  forward  so  that  his  handsome,  shapely 
head  was  only  a  trifle  higher  than  hers,  and  the  two — hers  so  dark 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  131 

and  rich  in  coloring,  his  so  fair  and  massive  and  strong — came  rather 
too  close  together  for  the  equanimity  of  Captain  Belknap,  who  had 
essayed  to  take  a  hand  at  whist  in  the  parlor.  One  or  two  of  the 
ladies,  also,  were  silent  observers  of  the  scene, — silent  as  to  the  scene 
because,  being  in  conversation  at  the  time  with  brother  officers  of  Lieu 
tenant  Perry,  they  were  uncertain  as  yet  how  comments  on  his  grow 
ing  flirtation  might  be  received.  That  their  eyes  should  occasionally 
wander  towards  the  hammock  and  then  glance  with  sympathetic  signifi 
cance  at  those  of  some  fair  ally  and  intimate  was  natural  enough.  But 
when  it  became  presently  apparent  that  Mrs.  Belknap  was  actually  unfast 
ening  the  little  silken  braid  that  had  hung  on  Ned  Perry's  cap  ever  since 
the  day  of  his  arrival, — all  the  while,  too,  looking  shyly  up  in  his  eyes 
as  her  fingers  worked ;  when  it  was  seen  that  she  presently  detached  it 
from  the  button  and  then,  half  hesitatingly,  but  evidently  in  compli 
ance  with  his  wishes,  handed  it  to  him ;  when  he  was  seen  to  toss  it 
carelessly — even  contemptuously — away  and  then  bend  down  lower,  as 
though  gazing  into  her  shaded  eyes, — Mrs.  Lawrence  could  stand  it  no 
longe;-. 

"  Mr.  Graham,"  said  she,  "  isn't  your  friend  Mr.  Perry  something 
of  a  flirt?" 

"  Who  ? — Ned  ?"  asked  Mr.  Graham,  in  well-feigned  amaze  and 
with  sudden  glance  towards  the  object  of  the  inquiry.  "  How  on  earth 
should  /  know  anything  about  it  ?  Of  course  you  do  not  seek  expert 
testimony  in  asking  me.  He  tries,  I  suppose,  to  adapt  himself  to  cir 
cumstances.  But  why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  Because  I  see  that  he  has  been  inducing  Mrs.  Belknap  to  take  off1 
that  little  tassel  on  the  button  of  his  cap.  He  has  worn  it  when  off 
duty  ever  since  he  came ;  and  we  supposed  it  was  something  he  cher- 
ished  ;  I  know  she  did." 

Graham  broke  forth  in  a  peal  of  merry  laughter,  but  gave  no  further 
reply,  for  just  then  the  colonel  and  the  doctor  left  their  chairs,  and, 
sauntering  over  to  the  hammock,  brought  mighty  relief  to  Belknap  at 
the  whist-table  and  vexation  of  spirit  to  his  pretty  wife.  The  flirta 
tion  was  broken  up  at  a  most  interesting  point,  and  Perry,  rising  sud 
denly,  came  over  and  joined  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

If  she  expected  to  see  him  piqued  or  annoyed  at  the  interruption 
and  somewhat  perturbed  in  manner,  she  was  greatly  mistaken.  Nothing 
could  have  been  more  sunshiny  and  jovial  than  the  greeting  he  gave 
her.  A  laughing  apology  to  Graham  for  spoiling  his  Ute-a-Ute  was 


132  DUNE  A  YEN  RANCH. 

accomplished  in  a  moment,  and  then  down  by  her  side  he  sat  and 
plunged  into  a  merry  description  of  his  experiences  at  dinner,  where 
he  had  been  placed  next  to  the  chaplain's  wife  on  the  one  hand,  and 
she  had  been  properly  aggrieved  at  his  attentions  to  Mrs.  Belknap  on 
the  other. 

"  You  must  remember  that  Mrs.  Wells  is  a  very  strict  Presbyterian, 
Mr.  Perry ;  and,  for  that  matter,  none  of  us  have  seen  a  dinner  such 
as  the  colonel  gave  us  this  evening  for  ever  and  ever  so  long.  We  are 
quite  unused  to  the  ways  of  civilization ;  whereas  you  have  just  come 
from  the  East — and  long  leave.  Perhaps  it  is  the  fashion  to  be  all 
devotion  to  one's  next-door  neighbor  at  dinner." 

"  Not  if  she  be  as  repellent  and  venerable  as  Mrs.  "Wells,  I  assure 
you.  Why,  I  thought  she  would  have  been  glad  to  leave  the  table 
when,  after  having  refused  sherry  and  Pontet-Canet  for  upwards  of  an 
hour,  her  glass  was  filled  with  champagne  when  she  happened  to  be 
looking  the  other  way." 

"  It  is  the  first  dinner  of  the  kind  she  has  ever  seen  here,  Mr. 
Perry,  and  I  don't  suppose  either  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Wells  has  been  up  so 
late  before  in  years.  He  would  have  enjoyed  staying  and  watching 
whist,  but  she  carried  him  off  almost  as  soon  as  we  left  the  table. 
Our  society  has  been  very  dull,  you  know, — only  ourselves  at  the  post 
all  this  last  year,  and  nobody  outside  of  it." 

"One  would  suppose  that  with  all  this  magnificent  cattle-range 
there  would  be  some  congenial  people  ranching  near  you.  Are  there 
none  at  all  ?" 

"  Absolutely  none  !  There  are  some  ranches  down  in  the  Washita 
country,  but  only  one  fine  one  near  us ;  and  that  might  as  well  be  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  No  one  from  there  ever  comes  here ; 
and  Dr.  Quin  is  the  only  living  soul  in  the  garrison  who  ever  got 
within  the  walls  of  that  ranch.  What  he  saw  there  he  positively 
refuses  to  tell,  despite  all  our  entreaty." 

"  You  don't  tell  me  there's  a  ranch  with  a  mystery  here  near 
Rossiter !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Perry,  with  sudden  interest. 

"  Why,  I  do,  indeed  !  Is  it  possible  you  have  been  here  two  whole 
weeks  and  haven't  heard  of  Dunraven  Ranch  ?" 

"  I've  heard  there  was  such  a  thing ;  I  saw  it  from  a  distance  when 
out  hunting  the  other  day.  But  what's  the  mystery? — what's  the 
matter  with  it  ?" 

"  That's  what  we  all  want  to  know, — and  cannot  find  out.     Now, 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  133 

there  is  an  exploit  worthy  your  energy  and  best  efforts,  Mr.  Perry. 
There  is  a  big,  wealthy,  well-stocked  ranch,  the  finest  homestead  build 
ings,  we  are  told,  in  all  this  part  of  Texas.  They  say  it  is  beautifully 
furnished, — that  it  has  a  fine  library,  a  grand  piano,  all  manner  of 
things  indicative  of  culture  and  refinement  among  its  occupants, — but 
the  owner  only  comes  around  once  or  twice  a  year,  and  is  an  iceberg 
of  an  Englishman.  All  the  people  about  the  ranch  are  English,  too, 
and  the  most  repellent,  boorish,  discourteous  lot  of  men  you  ever  saw. 
When  the  Eleventh  were  here  they  did  everything  they  could  to  be 
'rivil  to  them,  but  not  an  invitation  would  they  accept,  not  one  would 
they  extend ;  and  so  from  that  day  to  this  none  of  the  officers  have 
had  any  intercourse  with  the  people  at  the  ranch,  and  the  soldiers 
know  very  little  more.  Once  or  twice  a  year  some  very  ordinary  look 
ing  men  arrive  who  are  said  to  be  very  distinguished  people — in 
England  ;  but  they  remain  only  a  little  while,  and  go  away  as  suddenly 
as  they  came." 

"  And  you  have  never  seen  any  of  them  ?" 

"Nrfsver,  except  at  a  distance.  Nor  has  any  one  of  the  officers, 
except  Dr.  Quin." 

"  And  you  have  never  heard  anything  about  the  inmates  and  why 
they  keep  up  this  policy  of  exclusiveness  ?" 

"  We  have  heard  all  manner  of  things, — some  of  them  wildly 
romantic,  some  mysteriously  tragic,  and  all  of  them,  probably,  absurd 
At  all  events,  Captain  Lawrence  has  told  me  he  did  not  wish  me  to 
repeat  what  I  had  heard,  or  to  be  concerned  in  any  way  with  the 
stories  afloat:  so  you  must  ask  somebody  else.  Try  the  doctor.  To 
change  the  subject,  Mr.  Perry,  I  see  you  have  lost  that  mysterious 
little  silken  braid  and  tassel  you  wore  on  your  cap-button.  1  fancied 
there  was  some  romance  attached  to  it,  and  now  it  is  gone." 

Perry  laughed,  his  blue  eyes  twinkling  with  fun  :  "  If  I  will  tell 
you  how  and  where  I  got  that  tassel,  will  you  tell  me  what  you  have 
heard  about  Dunraven  Ranch  ?" 

"I  cannot,  unless  Captain  Lawrence  withdraws  his  prohibition. 
Perhaps  he  will,  though ;  for  I  think  it  was  only  because  he  was  tired 
of  hearing  all  our  conjectures  and  theories." 

"  Well,  will  you  tell  me  if  I  can  induce  the  captain  to  say  he  has 
nj  objection?"  persisted  Perry. 

"  I  will  to-morrow, — if  you  will  tell  me  about  the  tassel  to 
night." 

12 


134  DUNE  A  YEN  RANCH. 

"  Is  it  a  positive  promise  ? — You  will  tell  me  to-morrow  all  you 
have  heard  about  Dunraven  Ranch  if  I  will  tell  you  to-night  all  I 
know  about  the  tassel  ?" 

"  Yes, — a  promise." 

"Very  well,  then.  You  are  a  witness  to  the  compact,  Graham. 
Now  for  my  confession.  I  have  worn  that  tassel  ever  since  our 
parting  ball  at  Fort  Riley.  That  is  to  say,  it  has  been  fastened  to 
that  button  ever  since  the  ball  until  to-night;  but  I've  been  mighty 
careful  not  to  wear  that  cap  on  any  kind  of  duty." 

"And  yet  you  let  Mrs.  Belknap  take  it  off  to-night?" 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  There  was  no  sentiment  whatever  attached 
to  it.  I  haven't  the  faintest  idea  whose  it  was,  and  only  tied  it  there 
for  the  fun  of  the  thing  and  to  make  Graham,  here,  ask  questions." 

"  Mr.  Perry  !"  gasped  Mrs.  Lawrence.  "  And  do  you  mean  that 
Mrs.  Belkuap  knows? — that  you  told  her  what  you  have  just  told 
me?" 

"  Well,  no,"  laughed  Perry.  "  I  fancy  Mrs.  Belknap  thinks  as 
you  thought, — that  it  was  a  gage  d'amour.  Halloo !  look  at  that 
light  away  out  there  across  the  prairie.  What  can  that  be  ?" 

Mrs.  Lawrence  rose  suddenly  to  her  feet  and  gazed  southeastward 
in  the  direction  in  which  the  young  officer  pointed.  It  was  a  lovely, 
starlit  night.  A  soft  wind  was  blowing  gently  from  the  south  and 
bearing  with  it  the  fragrance  of  spring  blossoms  and  far-away  flowerets. 
Others,  too,  had  arisen,  attracted  by  Perry's  sudden  exclamation.  Mrs. 
Belknap  turned  languidly  in  her  hammock  and  glanced  over  her 
pretty  white  shoulder.  The  colonel  followed  her  eyes  with  his  and 
gave  a  start  of  surprise.  The  doctor  turned  slowly  and  composedly 
and  looked  silently  towards  the  glistening  object,  and  then  upon  the 
officers  of  the  cavalry  there  fell  sudden  astonishment. 

"What  on  earth  could  that  have  been?"  asked  the  colonel.  "It 
gleamed  like  the  head-light  of  a  locomotive,  away  down  there  in  the 
valley  of  the  Monee,  then  suddenly  went  out." 

"  Be  silent  a  moment,  and  watch,"  whispered  Mrs.  Lawrence  to 
Perry.  "  You  will  see  it  again ;  and — watch  the  doctor." 

Surely  enough,  even  as  they  were  all  looking  about  and  comment 
ing  on  the  strange  apparition,  it  suddenly  glared  forth  a  second  time, 
shining  full  and  lustrous  as  an  unclouded  planet,  yet  miles  away 
beyond  and  above  the  fringe  of  cottonwoods  that  wound  southeast- 


DUN  RAVEN  RANCH.  135 

ward  with  the  little  stream.  Full  half  a  minute  it  shone,  and  then, 
abruptly  as  before,  was  hidden  from  sight. 

Perry  was  about  starting  forward  to  join  the  colonel,  when  a  little 
hand  was  laid  upon  his  arm. 

"  Wait :  once  more  you'll  see  it,"  she  whispered.  "  Then  take  me 
in  to  Captain  Lawrence.  Do  you  see  that  the  doctor  is  leaving  ?" 

Without  saying  a  word  to  any  one,  the  post  surgeon  had  very 
quietly  withdrawn  from  the  group  on  the  veranda.  He  could  not  well 
leave  by  the  front  gate  without  attracting  attention ;  but  he  strolled 
leisurely  into  the  hall,  took  up  a  book  that  lay  on  the  table,  and  passed 
through  the  group  of  officers  seated  smoking  and  chatting  there,  entered 
the  sitting-room  on  the  south  side  of  the  hall, — the  side  opposite  the 
parlor  where  the  whist-game  was  in  progress, — and  there  he  was  lost 
to  sight. 

A  third  time  the  bright  light  burst  upon  the  view  of  the  gazers.  A 
third  time,  sharply  and  suddenly  it  disappeared.  Then  for  a  moment 
all  was  silence  and  watchfulness;  but  it  came  no  more. 

Perry  looked  questioningly  in  his  companion's  face.  She  had  turned 
a  little  white,  and  he  felt  sure  that  she  was  shivering. 

"  Are  you  cold  ?"  he  asked  her,  gently. 

"  No, — not  that ;  but  I  hate  mysteries,  after  what  Pve  heard,  and 
we  haven't  seen  that  light  in  ever  so  long.  Come  here  to  the  corner 
one  moment."  And  she  led  him  around  to  the  other  flank  of  the  big 
wooden,  barrack-like  residence  of  the  commanding  officer. 

"  Look  up  there,"  she  said,  pointing  to  a  dark  window  under  the 
peaked  dormer  roof  of  the  large  cottage  to  the  south.  "  That  is  the 
doctor's  house." 

In  a  few  seconds  a  faint  gleam  seemed  to  creep  through  the  slats. 
Then  the  slats  themselves  were  thrown  wide  open,  a  white  shade  was 
lowered,  and,  with  the  rays  behind  it  growing  brighter  every  instant,  a 
broad  white  light  shone  forth  over  the  roof  of  the  veranda.  Another 
moment,  and  footsteps  were  heard  along  the  doctor's  porch, — footsteps 
that  presently  approached  them  along  the  grass. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  plucking  at  his  sleeve, — "  come  away  :  it  is  the 
doctor." 

"  For  what  reason?"  he  answered.  "That  would  seem  like  hiding. 
No,  Mrs.  Lawrence,  let  us  stay  until  he  comes." 

But  the  doctor  passed  them  with  brief  and  courteous  salutation, — 


136  DUNBAVEN  RANCH. 

spoke  of  the  beauty  of  the  night  and  the  balm  of  the  summery  air, — 
and  went  in  again  by  the  main  door  to  the  colonel's  quarters. 

Then  Perry  turned  to  his  partner :  "  Well,  Mrs.  Lawrence,  what 
does  it  all  mean?  Is  this  part  of  what  you  had  to  tell  me?" 

"Don't  ask  me  now.  I — I  did  not  want  to  see  what  we  have  seen, 
but  I  had  heard  queer  stories  and  could  not  believe  them.  Take  me 
in  to  Captain  Lawrence,  please.  And,  Mr.  Perry,  you  won't  speak  of 
this  to  any  one,  will  you  ?  Indeed,  if  I  had  known,  I  would  not  have 
come  out  here  for  the  world ;  but  I  didn't  believe  it,  even  when  she 
went  away  and  took  the  children." 

"  Who  went  away  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Quin, — the  doctor's  wife.  And  she  was  such  a  sweet  woman, 
and  so  devoted  to  him." 

"  Well,  pardon  me,  Mrs.  Lawrence,  I  don't  see  through  this  thing 
at  all.  Do  you  mean  that  the  doctor  has  anything  to  do  with  the 
mystery  ?" 

She  bowed  her  head  as  they  turned  back  to  the  house  :  "  I  must  not 
tell  you  any  more  to-night.  You  will  be  sure  to  hear  something  of  it 
all,  here.  Everybody  on  the  piazza  saw  the  lights,  and  all  who  were 
here  before  you  came  knew  what  they  meant." 

"  What  were  they  ?" 

"  Signals,  of  some  kind,  from  Dunraven  Ranch." 

II. 

"Ned  Perry  hated  reveille  and  morning  stables  about  as  vehemently 
as  was  possible  to  a  young  fellow  who  was  in  other  respects  thoroughly 
in  love  with  his  profession.  A  fairer  type  of  the  American  cavalry 
officer,  when  once  he  got  in  saddle  and  settled  down  to  business,  one 
would  hardly  ask  to  find.  Tall,  athletic,  slender  of  build,  with  frank, 
laughing  blue  eyes,  curly,  close-cropped,  light-brown  hair,  and  a  twirl 
ing  moustache  that  was  a  source  of  inexpressible  delight  to  its  owner 
and  of  some  envy  to  his  brother  subalterns,  Mr.  Perry  was  probably 
the  best-looking  of  the  young  officers  who  marched  with  the  battalion 
to  this  far-away  station  on  the  borders  of  the  Llano  Estacado.  He 
had  been  ten  years  in  service,  counting  the  four  he  spent  as  a  cadet, 
had  just  won  his  silver  bar  as  the  junior  first-lieutenant  of  the  regi 
ment,  was  full  to  the  brim  of  health,  energy,  animal  spirits,  and  fun, 
and,  barring  a  few  duns  and  debts  in  his  earlier  experiences,  had  never 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  137 

known  a  heavier  care  in  the  world  than  the  transient  and  ephemeral 
anxiety  as  to  whether  he  would  be  called  up  for  recitation  on  a  subject 
he  had  not  so  much  as  looked  at,  or  "  hived"  absent  from  a  roll-call  he 
had  lazily  slept  through.  Any  other  man,  his  comrades  said,  would 
have  been  spoiled  a  dozen  times  over  by  the  petting  he  had  received 
from  both  men  and  women ;  but  there  was  something  essentially  sweet 
and  genial  about  his  nature, — something  "  lacking  in  guile  about  his 
perceptions,"  said  a  cynical  old  captain  of  the  regiment, — and  a  jovial, 
sunshiny  way  of  looking  upon  the  world  as  an  Eden,  all  men  and  all 
women  as  friends,  and  the  Army  as  the  profession  above  all  others,  and 
these  various  attributes  combined  to  make  him  popular  with  his  kind 
and  unusually  attractive  to  the  opposite  sex.  As  a  cadet  he  had  been 
perpetually  on  the  verge  of  dismissal  because  of  the  appalling  array  of 
demerits  he  could  roll  up  against  his  name ;  and  yet  the  very  officers 
who  jotted  down  the  memoranda  of  his  sins — omission  and  commis 
sion — against  the  regulations  were  men  who  openly  said  he  "  had  the 
making  of  one  of  the  finest  soldiers  in  the  class."  As  junior  second- 
lieutenant — "  plebe" — of  the  regiment,  he  had  been  welcomed  by  every 
man  from  the  colonel  down,  and  it  was  considered  particularly  rough 
that  he  should  have  to  go  to  such  a  company  as  Captain  Canker's, 
because  Canker  was  a  man  who  never  got  along  with  any  of  his 
juniors;  but  there  was  something  so  irrepressibly  frank  and  contrite 
in  Perry's  boyish  face  when  he  would  appear  at  his  captain's  door  in 
the  early  morning  and  burst  out  with,  "  By  Jove,  captain  !  I  slept 
through  reveille  again  this  morning,  and  never  got  down  till  stables 
wrere  nearly  over,"  that  even  that  cross-grained  but  honest  troop-com 
mander  was  disarmed,  and,  though  he  threatened  and  reprimanded,  he 
would  never  punish, — would  never  deny  his  subaltern  the  faintest  privi 
lege;  and  when  promotion  took  the  captain  to  another  regiment  he  bade 
good -by  to  Perry  with  eyes  that  were  suspiciously  wet.  "  Why,  blow  it 
all,  what  do  you  fellows  hate  Canker  so  for?"  the  youngster  often  said. 
"  He  ought  to  put  me  in  arrest  time  and  again,  but  he  won't.  Blamed 
if  I  don't  put  myself  in  arrest,  or  confine  myself  to  the  limits  of  the 
post,  or  do  something,  to  cut  all  this  going  to  town  and  hops  and  such 
things.  Then  I  can  stick  to  the  troop  like  wax  and  get  up  at  reveille ; 
but  if  I'm  out  dancing  till  two  or  three  in  the  morning  it's  no  use,  I 
tell  you :  I  just  can't  wake  up."  Indeed,  it  was  part  of  the  unwritten 
records  of  the  — th  that  while  at  Riley  and  having  very  sociable  times, 
Ned  Perry  actually  declined  invitations,  cooped  himself  up  in  gar- 

12* 


138  DUXRAVEN  RANCH. 

rison,  and  wore  metaphorical  sackcloth  and  ashes,  for  &  whole  week,  in 
penance  for  certain  neglects  of  duty  brought  about  by  the  presence 
of  a  bevy  of  pretty  girls.  It  was  not  until  Canker  went  to  him  in 
person  and  virtually  ordered  him  out  that  Perry  could  be  induced  to 
appear  at  the  party  given  in  farewell  to  two  of  the  prettiest,  who  were 
to  leave  for  the  East  on  the  following  day. 

And  yet  he  was  a  disappointment  in  a  certain  way.  It  was  alwaya 
predicted  of  Ned  Perry  that  he  would  be  "  married  and  done  for"  within 
a  year  of  his  graduation.  Every  new  face  in  the  five  years  that  followed 
revived  the  garrison  prophecy,  "  Now  he's  gone,  sure !"  but,  however 
devoted  he  might  seem  to  the  damsel  in  question,  however  restless  and 
impatient  he  might  be  when  compelled  by  his  duties  to  absent  himself 
from  her  side,  however  promising  to  casual  observers — perchance  to  the 
damsel  herself — might  be  all  the  surface-indications,  the  absolute  frank 
ness  with  which  he  proclaimed  his  admiration  to  every  listener,  and  the 
fact  that  he  "had  been  just  so  with  half  a  dozen  other  girls,"  enabled 
the  cooler  heads  of  the  regiment  to  decide  that  the  time  had  not  yet 
rorne, — or  at  least  the  woman. 

"  I  do  wish,"  said  Mrs.  Turner,  "  that  Mr.  Perry  would  settle  on 
somebody,  because,  just  so  long  as  he  doesn't,  it  is  rather  hard  to  tell 
whom  he  belongs  to."  And,  as  Mrs.  Turner  had  long  been  a  reigning 
belle  among  the  married  women  of  the  — th,  and  one  to  whom  the 
young  officers  were  always  expected  to  show  much  attention,  her  whim 
sical  way  of  describing  the  situation  was  readily  understood. 

But  here  at  the  new  station — at  far-away  Rossiter — matters  were 
taking  on  a  new  look.  To  begin  with,  the  wives  of  the  officers  of  the 
cavalry  battalion  had  not  joined,  none  of  the  ladies  of  the  — th  were 
here,  and  none  would  be  apt  to  come  until  the  summer's  scouting-wrork 
was  over  and  done  with.  The  ladies  of  the  little  battalion  of  infantry 
were  here,  and,  though  there  were  no  maiden  sisters  or  cousins  yet  at  the 
post  (rest  assured  that  more  than  one  was  already  summoned),  they 
were  sufficient  in  number  to  enliven  the  monotony  of  garrison  life  and 
sufficiently  attractive  to  warrant  all  the  attention  they  cared  to  receive. 
It  was  beginning  to  be  garrison  chat  that  if  Ned  Perry  had  not  "  settled 
on  somebody"  as  the  ultimate  object  of  his  entire  devotion,  somebody 
had  settled  on  him,  and  that  was  pretty  Mrs.  Bel  knap. 

And  though  Ned  Perry  hated  reveille  and  morning  stables,  as  has 
been  said,  and  could  rarely  "  take  his  week"  without  making  one  or 
more  lapses,  here  he  was  this  beautiful  May  morning  out  at  daybreak 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  139 

when  it  was  his  junior's  tour  of  duty,  and  wending  his  way  with  that 
youngster  out  to  the  line  of  cavalry  stables,  booted  and  spurred  and 
equipped  for  a  ride. 

The  colonel  had  listened  with  some  surprise  to  his  request,  proffered 
just  as  the  party  was  breaking  up  the  night  before,  to  be  absent  from 
garrison  a  few  hours  the  following  morning. 

"  But  we  have  battalion  drill  at  nine  o'clock,  Mr.  Perry,  and  I 
need  you  there,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  I'll  be  back  in  time  for  that,  sir.  I  wanted  to  be  off  three 
hours  or  so  before  breakfast.'' 

The  colonel  could  not  help  laughing.  "  Of  course  you  can  go, — go 
wherever  you  like  at  those  hours,  when  you  are  not  on  guard ;  but  I 
never  imagined  you  would  want  to  get  up  so  early." 

"  Neither  I  would,  colonel,  but  I've  been  interested  in  something  I 
heard  about  this  ranch  down  the  Monee,  and  thought  I'd  like  to  ride 
down  and  look  at  it." 

"  Go  ahead,  by  all  means,  and  see  whether  those  lights  came  from 
there,  ft  made  me  think  of  a  play  I  once  saw, — the  '  Colleen  Bawn,' — 
where  a  fellow's  sweetheart  signalled  across  the  lake  by  showing  a  light 
in  her  cottage  window  just  that  way,  three  times,  and  he  answered  by 
turning  out  the  lights  in  his  room.  Of  course  the  distance  wasn't  any 
thing  like  this ;  and  there  was  no  one  here  to  turn  down  any  light 
Eh  !  what  did  you  say  ?" 

"  I  beg  pardon,  colonel.  I  didn't  mean  to  interrupt,"  put  in  a 
gentle  voice  at  his  elbow,  while  a  little  hand  on  Perry's  arm  gave  it  a 
sudden  and  vigorous  squeeze,  "but  Captain  Lawrence  has  called  me 
twice, — he  will  not  re-enter  after  lighting  his  cigar, — and  I  must  say 
good-night." 

"  Oh !  good-night,  Mrs.  Lawrence.  I'm  sorry  you  go  so  early. 
We  are  going  to  reform  you  all  in  that  respect  as  soon  as  we  get  fairly 
settled.  Here's  Perry,  now,  would  sit  up  and  play  whist  with  me  an 
hour  yet." 

"  Not  this  night,  colonel.  He  has  promised  to  walk  home  with  us" 
(another  squeeze),  "  and  go  he  must,  or  be  a  faithless  escort.  Good 
night.  We've  had  such  a  lovely,  lovely  time." 

And  Ned  Perry,  dazed,  went  with  her  to  the  gate,  where  Captain 
Lawrence  was  awaiting  them.  She  had  barely  time  to  murmur, — 

"You  were  just  on  the  point  of  telling  him  about  the  doctor's 
lights.  I  cannot  forgive  myself  for  being  the  means  of  your  seeing 


140  DUNEAVEN  RANCH. 

it ;  but  keep  my  confidence,  and  keep — this,  until  everybody  is  talking 
about  it :  it  will  come  soon  enough." 

Naturally,  Mr.  Perry  went  home  somewhat  perturbed  in  spirit  and 
all  alive  with  conjecture  as  to  what  these  things  could  mean.  The  first 
notes  of  "  assembly  of  the  trumpeters" — generally  known  as  "  first  call" 
— roused  him  from  his  sleep,  and  by  the  time  the  men  marched  out  to 
stables  he  had  had  his  plunge-bath,  a  vigorous  rub,  and  a  chance  to 
think  over  his  plans  before  following  in  their  tracks,  dressed  for  his 
ride.  The  astonishment  of  Lieutenant  Parke,  the  junior  of  the  troop, 
was  something  almost  too  deep  for  words  when  Perry  came  bounding 
to  his  side. 

"  What  on  earth  brings  you  out,  Ned  ?"  was  his  only  effort. 

"  Going  for  a  gallop,— down  the  Monee :  that's  all.  I  haven't  had 
a  freshener  for  a  week." 

"  Gad !  we  get  exercise  enough  at  morning  drill,  one  would  think, 

and  our  horses  too.  Oh  ! "  And  Mr.  Parke  stopped  suddenly.  It 

flashed  across  him  that  perhaps  Perry  was  going  riding  with  a  lady 
friend  and  the  hour  was  her  selection.  If  so,  'twas  no  business  of  his, 
and  remarks  were  uncalled  for.  Accepting  this  as  the  one  possible 
explanation  of  Perry's  abnormal  early  rising,  he  curbed  his  tongue, 
and  Perry,  absorbed  in  his  own  projects  and  thinking  of  anything  but 
what  was  passing  through  his  comrade's  brain,  strode  blithely  over  the 
springy  turf,  saying  nothing  further  of  his  plan. 

When  he  mounted  and  rode  away  from  the  stable  Mr.  Parke  was 
outside  at  the  picket-rope,  and  busily  occupied  in  his  duties,  supervising 
the  fastening  of  the  fresh,  spirited  horses  at  the  line,  for  the  troop- 
commander  was  a  man  intolerant  of  disorder  of  any  kind,  and  nothing 
more  offended  his  eye  than  the  sight  of  two  or  three  of  his  chargers 
loose  and  plunging  and  kicking  up  and  down  the  stable-yard.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  was  no  one  exploit  that  seemed  to  give  the  youngei 
animals  keener  delight, — nothing  that  made  the  perpetrator  a  bigger 
hero  in  his  own  eyes  or  the  object  of  greater  envy  among  his  fellows, — 
and  as  a  consequence  every  device  of  which  equine  ingenuity  was 
master  was  called  into  play,  regularly  as  the  morning  came  around,  to 
break  loose  either  from  the  controlling  hand  of  the  trooper  or  from  the 
taut  and  straining  picket-rope.  The  first  care  of  the  officer  in  charge 
and  the  troop-sergeants  was,  therefore,  to  see  that  all  the  horses  were  se 
curely  lashed  and  knotted.  Not  until  he  had  examined  every  "  halter- 


DUNEAVEN  RANCH.  141 

shank"  was  Mr.  Parke  at  leisure  to  look  around ;  but  when  he  did,  his 
comrade  had  disappeared  from  view. 

The  valley  of  the  Monee,  shallow,  and  bare  of  trees  except  in 
scattered  clumps  along  the  stream,  stretched  away  southeastward  for 
many  a  mile  until  lost  to  sight  in  the  general  level  at  the  horizon. 
Off  to  the  north  and  east  the  prairie  rose  and  fell  in  long,  low  undu 
lations,  so  devoid  of  abrupt  slope  of  any  kind  as  to  seem  absolutely 
flat  to  the  unpractised  eye.  Southward  and  to  the  west  of  the  lonely 
post  the  surface  was  relieved  of  this  monotony  by  occasional  gentle 
rise  and  swell.  Nowhere,  however,  over  the  broad  expanse  was  there 
sign  of  other  vegetation  than  the  gray-green  carpet  of  buffalo-grass, 
and  this  carpet  itself  was  mapped  in  fantastic  pattern,  the  effect  of 
prairie-fires  more  or  less  recent  in  occurrence.  Where  within  a  fort 
night  the  flames  had  swept  over  the  surface,  all  the  bosom  of  the  earth 
was  one  black  barren,  a  land  shunned  for  the  time  being  by  every  living 
thing.  Where  by  sudden  freak  of  wind  or  fall  of  rain  the  scourging 
fires  had  been  checked  in  their  course,  there  lay  broad  wastes  of  virgin 
turf,  already  bleaching  under  the  fierce  Texan  sun  to  the  conventional 
gray  of  the  buffalo-grass.  But  contrasted  with  these  wide  mantles  of 
black  and  gray — contrasting  sharply,  too,  because  never  blending — 
every  mile  or  so  were  sudden  patches  of  bright  and  lively  green ;  and 
this  was  the  hue  of  the  sturdy  young  grass  peeping  up  through  the 
wastes  that  the  flames  had  desolated  late  in  March. 

And  over  this  broad  level,  horizon-bounded,  not  a  moving  object 
could  be  seen.  Far  away,  in  little  groups  of  three  or  four,  black  dots 
of  grazing  cattle  marked  the  plain  ;  and  over  in  the  "  breaks"  of  the 
Monee,  just  beyond  the  fringing  cotton  woods,  two  or  three  herds  of 
Indian  ponies  were  sleepily  cropping  their  morning  meal,  watched  by 
the  little  black  imp  of  a  boy  whose  dirty  red  blanket  made  the  only 
patch  of  color  against  the  southern  landscape.  Later  in  the  day,  when 
the  sun  mounted  high  in  the  heavens  and  the  brisk  westerly  winds  sent 
the  clouds  sailing  swift  across  the  skies,  all  the  broad  prairie  seemed 
in  motion,  for  then  huge  shadows  swept  its  face  with  measured  speed, 
and  distant  cattle  and  neighboring  pony-herd  appeared  as  though  calmly 
and  contentedly  riding  on  a  broad  platform,  Nature's  own  "  observa 
tion-car,"  taking  a  leisurely  journey  towards  the  far-away  Pacific. 

But  the  sun  was  only  just  up  as  Mr.  Parke  came  back  from  his 
inspection  of  the  halter-fastenings  and  paused  to  look  across  the  low 
valley.  Far  down  to  the  southeast  the  rays  seemed  glinting  on  some 


142  DUNE  A  YEN  RANCH. 

bright  objects  clustered  together  within  short  range  of  the  shadowy- 
fringe,  and  the  lieutenant  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  gauntlet  and  looked 
fixedly  thitherward  as  he  stood  at  the  stable  door. 

"  Some  new  tinning  down  at  that  English  ranch  they  talk  of,  I 
suppose,"  was  his  explanation  of  the  phenomenon,  and  then,  "  ^^7'onder 
why  Perry  hasn't  ridden  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of  those  people 
before  this.  He  was  always  the  first  man  in  the  — th  to  find  out  who 
our  neighbors  were." 

Pondering  over  this  question,  it  occurred  to  Mr.  Parke  that  Perry 
had  said  he  was  going  down  the  Monee  that  morning ;  but  nowhere 
was  there  a  speck  in  sight  that  looked  like  loping  horseman.  To  be 
sure,  the  trail  bore  close  to  the  low  bluffs  that  bounded  the  valley  on 
the  north  by  the  time  one  had  ridden  a  mile  or  so  out  from  the  post. 
He  was  probably  hidden  by  this  shoulder  of  the  prairie,  and  would 
continue  to  be  until  he  reached  the  bend,  five  miles  below.  No  use 
watching  for  him  then.  Besides,  he  might  not  yet  have  started.  Mr. 
Parke  recalled  the  fact  that  he  half  suspected  a  while  ago  that  Ned  was 
going  to  ride — an  early  ante-breakfast  ride — with  a  lady  friend.  Mrs. 
Belknap  had  her  own  horse,  and  was  an  accomplished  equestrienne; 
Mrs.  Lawrence  rode  fairly  well,  and  was  always  glad  to  go,  when 
somebody  could  give  her  a  saddle  and  a  reliable  mount.  There  were 
others,  too,  among  the  ladies  of  the  infantry  garrison  who  were  no 
novices  d  cheval.  Mr.  Parke  had  no  intention  whatever  of  prying  into 
the  matter.  It  was  simply  as  something  the  officer  in  charge  of  stable- 
duty  was  entitled  to  know  that  he  turned  suddenly  and  called, — 

"  Sergeant  Gwynne !" 

He  heard  the  name  passed  down  the  dark  interior  of  the  stable  by 
the  men  sweeping  out  the  stalls,  and  the  prompt  and  cheery  reply. 
The  next  instant  a  tall  young  trooper  stepped  forth  into  the  blaze  of 
early  sunlight,  his  right  hand  raised  in  salute,  and  stood  erect  and 
motionless  by  the  lieutenant's  side. 

"  Did  Mr.  Perry  take  an  extra  horse,  sergeant  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"I  thought  possibly  he  meant  to  take  Roland.  He's  the  best 
lady's-horse  in  the  troop,  is  he  not  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  Roland  is  at  the  line  now." 

"Very  well,  then.  That's  all.  I  presume  he  has  just  ridden  down 
to  Dunraven."  And  Mr.  Parke  turned  to  look  once  more  at  the  glint 
ing  objects  down  the  distant  valley.  It  was  a  moment  or  two  before  he 


D  UNBA  YEN  RANCH.  1 43 

was  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  sergeant  still  stood  there,  instead  of 
returning  to  his  duties. 

"  I  said  that  was  all,  sergeant :  you  can  go  back  to  your  feeding." 
And  then  Mr.  Parke  turned  in  some  surprise,  for  Sergeant  Gwynne,  by 
long  odds  the  "  smartest"  and  most  soldierly  of  the  non-commissioned 
officers  of  the  cavalry  battalion,  for  the  first  time  in  his  history  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  himself.  Though  his  attitude  had  not  changed,  his 
face  had,  and  a  strange  look  was  in  his  bright  blue  eyes, — a  look  of 
incredulity  and  wonderment  and  trouble  all  combined.  The  lieutenant 
was  fairly  startled  when,  as  though  suddenly  gathering  himself  to 
gether,  the  sergeant  falteringly  asked, — 

"  I  beg  pardon,  sir,  but — he  had  ridden — where?" 

"  Down  to  the  ranch,  sergeant, — that  one  you  can  just  see,  away 
down  the  valley." 

"  I  know,  sir ;  but — the  name  ?" 

"Dunraven  Ranch." 

For  an  instant  the  sergeant  stood  as  though  dazed,  then,  with  sudden 
effort,  saluted,  faced  about,  and  plunged  into  the  dark  recesses  of  the 
stable. 

III. 

Meantime,  Lieutenant  Perry  was  riding  blithely  down  the  winding 
trail,  totally  unconscious  that  his  movements  were  of  the  faintest  con 
sequence  to  anybody  but  himself,  and  equally  heedless  of  their  being  a 
source  of  speculation.  His  horse  was  one  he  rejoiced  in,  full  of  spirit 
and  spring  and  intelligence;  the  morning  was  beautiful, — just  cool 
enough  to  be  exhilarating  •  his  favorite  hound,  Bruce,  went  bounding 
over  the  turf  under  the  slopes,  or  ranging  off  through  the  cottonwooda 
along  the  stream,  or  the  shallow,  sandy  arroyos,  where  the  grass  and 
weeds  grew  rank  and  luxuriant.  Every  now  and  then  with  sudden 
rush  and  whir  a  drove  of  prairie-chickens  would  leap  from  their 
covert,  and,  after  vigorous  flapping  of  wings  for  a  few  rods,  would 
go  skimming  restfully  in  long  easy  curve,  and  settle  to  earth  again  a 
hundred  yards  away,  as  though  suddenly  reminded  of  the  fact  that  this 
was  mating-time  and  no  gentleman  would  be  mean  enough  to  shoot  at 
such  a  season.  Every  little  while,  too,  with  prodigious  kicking  of  dust 
and  show  of  heels,  with  eyes  fairly  bulging  out  of  his  feather-brained 
head,  and  tall  lop-ears  laid  flat  on  his  back,  a  big  jack-rabbit  would 
bound  off  into  space,  and  go  tearing  across  the  prairie  in  mad  race  for 


144  DUXRAVEN  RANCH. 

his  threatened  life,  putting  a  mile  between  him  and  the  Monee  before 
he  began  to  realize  that  the  two  quadrupeds  ambling  along  the  distant 
trail  were  obedient  to  the  will  of  that  single  rider,  who  had  no  thought 
to  spare  for  game  so  small.  Some  Indian  ponies,  grazing  across  his 
pathway,  set  back  their  stunted  ears,  and,  cow-like,  refused  to  budge  at 
sight  and  hearing  of  the  big  American  horse ;  whereat  a  little  vagabond 
of  a  Cheyenne,  not  ten  years  old  nor  four  feet  high,  set  up  a  shrill 
chatter  and  screech  and  let  drive  a  few  well-directed  clods  of  turf,  and 
then  showed  his  white  teeth  in  a  grin  as  Perry  sung  out  a  cheery  "  How  ! 
sonny,"  and  spurred  on  through  the  opening  thoroughfare,  heedless  of 
spiteful  pony  looks  or  threatening  heels. 

Perry's  spirits  rose  with  every  rod.  Youth,  health,  contentment, 
all  were  his,  and  his  heart  was  warm  towards  his  fellow-men.  To  the 
best  of  his  reckoning,  he  had  not  an  enemy  or  detractor  in  the  world. 
He  was  all  gladness  of  nature,  all  friendliness,  frankness,  and  cordiality. 
The  toughest  cow-boy  whom  they  had  met  on  the  long  march  down, 
the  most  crabbed  of  the  frontiersmen  they  had  ever  encountered,  was 
never  proof  against  such  sunshine  as  seemed  to  irradiate  his  face.  He 
would  go  out  of  his  way  at  any  time  to  meet  and  hail  a  fellow-man  upon 
the  prairies,  and  rarely  came  back  without  knowing  all  about  him, — 
where  he  was  from,  whither  he  was  bound,  and  what  were  his  hopes  and 
prospects.  And  as  for  himself,  no  man  was  readier  to  answer  question 
or  to  meet  in  friendliest  and  most  jovial  spirit  the  rough  but  well-meant 
greetings  of  "  the  Plains." 

Being  in  this  frame  of  mind  to  an  extent  even  greater  than  his 
normal  wont,  Mi.  Perry's  eyes  glistened,  and  he  struck  spur  to  hasten 
Nolan's  btride,  when,  far  ahead,  and  coming  towards  him  on  the  trail, 
he  saw  a  horseman  like  himself.  Being  in  this  mood  of  sociability, 
he  was  something  more  than  surprised  to  see  that  all  of  a  sudden  that 
horseman  had  reined  in — a  mere  black  dot  a  mile  away — and  was 
presumably  examining  him  as  he  advanced.  Hostile  Indians  there 
had  been  none  for  many  a  long  month,  "  road-agents"  would  have 
starved  in  a  region  where  there  practically  were  no  roads,  cow-boys 
might — and  did — get  on  frolics  and  have  wild  "  tears"  at  times,  but 
who  ever  heard  of  their  being  hostile,  man  to  man  ?  Yet  Perry  was 
plainsman  enough  to  tell,  even  at  the  mile  of  distance,  that  the  stranger 
had  halted  solely  to  scrutinize  him,  and,  next,  to  his  vast  astonish 
ment,  that  something  in  his  appearance  had  proved  either  alarming 
or  suspicious,  for  the  horseman  had  turned  abruptly,  plunged  through 


DUN  RAVEN  RANCH.  145 

the  timber  and  across  the  stream,  and  in  another  moment,  veering 
that  way  himself  to  see,  Perry  marked  him  fairly  racing  into  the  mouth 
of  a  shallow  ravine,  or  "  break,"  that  entered  the  valley  from  the  south, 
and  there  he  was  lost  to  sight. 

"  What  an  ill-mannered  galoot !"  was  his  muttered  comment,  as  he 
gave  Nolan  brief  chance  to  crop  the  juicy  grass,  while  his  perturbed 
rider  sat  gazing  across  the  stream  in  the  direction  taken  by  the  shy 
horseman.  "  I've  half  a  mind  to  drop  the  ranch  and  put  out  after 
that  fellow.  That  ravine  can't  go  in  so  very  far  but  what  he  must 
soon  show  up  on  the  level  prairie ;  and  I'll  bet  Nolan  could  run  him 
down."  After  a  moment's  reflection,  however,  Mr.  Perry  concluded 
that,  as  he  had  come  so  far  and  wras  now  nearly  within  rifle-shot  of  the 
mysterious  goal  of  his  morning  ride,  he  might  as  well  let  the  stranger 
go,  and  pushed  ahead,  himself,  for  Dunraven. 

The  stream  bent  southward  just  at  the  point  where  he  had  first 
caught  sight  of  the  horseman,  and  around  that  point  he  knew  the 
ranch  to  be.  Very  probably  that  was  one  of  the  ranchmen  of  whom 
Mrs.  Lawrence  had  spoken, — churlish  fellows,  with  a  civil  word  for 
nobody,  grim  and  repellent.  Why,  certainly  !  That  accounted  for  his 
evident  desire  to  avoid  the  cavalryman ;  but  he  need  not  have  been  iii 
such  desperate  haste, — need  not  have  kept  at  such  unapproachable 
bounds,  as  though  he  shunned  even  being  seen.  That  was  the  queer 
thing,  thought  Perry.  He  acted  just  as  though  he  did  not  want  to  be 
recognized.  Perhaps  he'd  been  up  to  some  devilment  at  the  ranch. 

This  thought  gave  spur  to  his  speed,  and  Nolan,  responsive  to  his 
master's  mood,  leaped  forward  along  the  winding  trail  once  more.  The 
point  was  soon  reached  and  turned,  and  the  first  object  that  caught 
Perry's  eye  was  a  long  row  of  stakes  stretching  from  the  cottonwoods 
straight  to  the  south  up  the  gentle  slope  to  the  prairie,  and  indicating 
beyond  all  question  the  presence  there  of  a  stout  and  high  and  impassa 
ble  wire  fence.  There  are  few  things  the  cavalryman  holds  in  meaner 
estimate. 

"That  marks  the  western  limit,"  thought  Perry  to  himself,],"  and 
doubtless  reaches  miles  away  to  the  south,  from  what  I  hear.  Now, 
where  does  one  enter?" 

A  little  farther  on  he  came  upon  a  trail  leading  from  the  low  bluffs 

to  his  left  hand.     It  crossed  the  winding  bridle-path  on  which  he  rode, 

though  some  of  the  hoof-tracks  seemed  to  join,  and  wheel-tracks  too. 

He  had  marked  that  between  the  fort  and  the  point  no  sign  of  wheel 

0  13 


146  DVNRAVEN  RANCH. 

appeared:  it  was  a  hoof-trail  and  nothing  more.  Now  a  light  and 
little-travelled  wagon-track  came  in  from  the  north,  and  while  one 
branch  seemed  to  cross  the  Monee  and  to  ascend  the  opposite  slopes 
close  along  the  wire  fence,  the  other  joined  him  and  went  on  down  the 
stream.  This  he  decided  to  follow. 

A  ride  of  a  few  hundred  yards  brought  him  to  a  point  where  a 
shoulder  of  bluff  twisted  the  trail  well  in  towards  the  stream,  and  he, 
thinking  to  cross  and  reconnoitre  on  the  other  shore,  turned  Nolan  in 
that  way,  and  was  suddenly  brought  up  standing  by  the  heaviest  and 
most  forbidding  wire  fence  he  had  ever  seen.  Yes,  there  it  stretched 
away  through  the  cottonwoods,  straight  as  a  die,  back  to  the  angle 
whence  started  the  southward  course  he  first  had  noted,  and,  looking 
down  stream,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  he  marked  it,  staked  as  though 
by  the  theodolite  itself,  straight  as  surveyor  could  make  it,  a  rigid  line 
to  the  southeast.  Sometimes  the  stream  lay  on  one  side,  sometimes  on 
the  other ;  so,  too,  the  cottonwoods ;  but  there,  grim  and  bristling  and 
impassable,  over  five  feet  high,  and  fairly  snarling  with  its  sharp  and 
jagged  teeth,  this  inhuman  barrier  lay  betwixt  him  and  the  lands  of 
Dun  raven  Ranch. 

"  Well,"  thought  Perry,  "  I've  often  heard  an  Englishman's  house 
was  his  castle,  but  who  would  have  thought  of  staking  and  wiring  in 
half  a  county — half  a  Texas  county — in  this  hoggish  way?  How  far 
down  is  the  entrance,  anyhow?" 

Following  the  trail,  he  rode  down-stream  a  full  half-mile,  and  still 
there  seemed  no  break.  Nowhere  on  the  other  shore  was  there  sign 
of  bridle-path  leading  up  the  slopes.  Turning  to  his  left  in  some  im 
patience,  he  sent  Nolan  at  rapid  lope  across  the  intervening  "  bottom," 
and  soon  reached  the  bluffs,  which  rose  perhaps  forty  or  fifty  feet  above 
the  stream.  Once  on  the  crest,  the  prairie  stretched  before  him,  north 
ward,  level  as  a  floor,  until  it  met  the  sky ;  but  it  was  southward  he 
longed  to  look,  and  thither  quickly  turned.  Yes,  there  it  lay, — Dun- 
raven  Ranch,  in  all  its  lonely  majesty.  From  where  he  gazed  the 
nearest  building  stood  a  good  long  mile  away.  That  it  was  the  home 
stead  he  divined  at  once,  for  a  broad  veranda  ran  around  the  lower 
story,  and  white  curtains  were  visible  at  the  dormer-windows  of  th^ 
upper  floor?  Back  of  it  and  on  the  eastern  flank  were  other  buildings, 
massive-looking,  single-storied  affairs, — evidently  stables,  storehouses, 
and  corrals.  There  was  a  tall  windmill  there, — an  odd  sight  in  so 
remote  a  region, — and  a  big  water-tank.  Perry  wondered  how  it  evei 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  147 

got  there.  Then  at  the  southwest  angle  was  a  building  that  looked  like 
an  office  of  some  kind.  He  could  see  horses  tethered  there,  and  what 
seemed  to  be  human  figures  moving  about.  Beyond  it  all,  to  the  east 
and  south,  were  herds  of  grazing  cattle,  and  here  and  there  in  the  dim 
distance  a  horseman  moved  over  the  prairie.  This  reminded  him  of 
the  stranger  who  had  given  him  the  slip ;  and  he  gazed  westward  in 
search  of  him. 

Far  up  the  valley,  between  him  and  the  distant  post,  he  could 
plainly  see  a  black  object  just  descending  the  slopes  from  the  southern 
prairie  to  the  stream.  Not  another  was  in  sight  that  his  practised  eye 
did  not  know  to  be  cattle.  That,  then,  was  his  horseman,  once  more 
going  fort-wards  in  the  valley,  after  having  made  a  three-  or  four-mile 
detour  to  avoid  him.  "  Now,  what  sort  of  a  Christian  is  that  fellow  ?" 
thought  Perry,  as  he  gazed  at  the  distant  speck.  "  Going  to  the  fort, 
too.  By  thunder  !  I'll  find  out  who  he  is,  anyhow.  Now  I'm  going 
to  the  ranch." 

Down  the  slopes  he  rode.  Down  the  winding  trail  once  more  he 
trotted}  peering  through  every  gap  among  the  cotton  woods,  slaking 
Nolan's  thirst  at  a  little  pool  in  the  stream,  and  then,  after  another  long 
half-mile,  he  came  to  a  sudden  turn  to  the  right.  The  road  dipped  and 
twisted  through  the  stream-bed,  rose  to  the  other  side,  wound  through 
the  cottonwoods  and  then  out  on  the  open  turf.  Huzza !  There  it 
stretched  up  the  slopes  straight  away  for  the  south,  straight  through  a 
broad  gap  between  two  heavy  gate-posts  standing  on  the  stake-line  of 
that  rigid  fence.  Nolan  broke  into  a  brisk  canter  and  gave  a  neigh  of 
salutation ;  Perry's  eyes  glistened  with  anticipation  as  he  bent  over  his 
charger's  neck,  keenly  searching  the  odd-looking  structure  growing  on 
his  vision  as  they  neared  the  fence.  Then,  little  by  little,  Nolan's  eager 
stride  shortened  and  grew  choppy.  Another  moment,  and  horse  and 
rider  reined  up  short  in  disappointment.  Between  the  gate-posts  swung 
a  barrier  of  cobweb  lightness,  slender  and  airy  as  ever  spider  wove,  but 
bristling  with  barbs,  stiff  as  "  bullfinch"  and  unyielding  as  steel.  One 
glance  showed  Perry  that  this  inhospitable  gate  was  firmly  locked. 

For  a  moment  he  sat  in  saddle,  studying  the  situation,  while  Nolan 
poked  his  head  over  the  topmost  strand  of  wire  and,  keeping  at  respect 
ful  distance  from  the  glittering  barbs,  gazed  wistfully  over  the  enclosed 
prairie  in  search  of  comrade  quadruped  who  could  tell  him  what  man 
ner  of  place  this  was.  Meantime,  his  rider  was  intently  eying  the 
heavy  padlock  that  was  secured  on  the  inner  side  of  the  gate.  It  was 


148  DUNBAVEN  RANCH. 

square  in  shape,  massive  and  bulky, — something  utterly  unlike  any 
thing  he  had  ever  seen  among  the  quartermaster's  stores.  Dismount 
ing,  and  holding  Nolan  well  back  from  the  aggressive  fence  with  one 
hand,  he  gingerly  passed  the  other  through  the  spike-fringed  aperture 
and  turned  the  padlock  so  as  to  get  a  better  view.  It  was  of  English 
make,  as  he  surmised,  and  of  strength  sufficient  to  resist  anything  short 
of  a  trip-hammer.  Evidently  no  admission  was  to  be  gained  here,  he 
reasoned  ;  and  yet  it  was  through  here  that  that  horseman  had  come 
but  an  hour  before.  Here  were  the  fresh  hoof-prints  in  the  trail,  and 
it  was  evident  that  the  rider  had  dismounted,  opened  the  gate,  led  his 
horse  through,  closed  and  fastened  it,  then  remounted  and  ridden  away. 
Perry  was  plainsman  enough  to  read  this  from  the  hoof-prints.  Study 
ing  them  carefully,  a  look  of  surprise  came  into  his  face  :  he  bent  down 
and  closely  examined  the  two  or  three  that  were  most  clearly  defined 
upon  the  trail,  then  gave  a  long  whistle  as  a  means  of  expressing  his 
feelings  and  giving  play  to  his  astonishment : 

"Johnny  Bull  holds  himself  too  high  and  mighty  to  have  any 
thing  to  do  with  us  blarsted  Yankees,  it  seems,  except  when  he  wants 
his  horses  shod.  These  shoes  were  set  at  the  post  blacksmith-shop,  or 
I'm  a  duffer,"  was  the  lieutenant's  verbal  comment.  "  Now,  how  was 
it  done  without  the  quartermaster's  knowing  it  ?  That's  the  cavalry 
shoe !" 

Pondering  over  this  unlooked-for  revelation,  Mr.  Perry  once  more 
mounted,  and  turned  his  disappointed  steed  again  down-stream.  He 
had  determined  to  follow  the  fence  in  search  of  another  opening.  A 
mile  he  rode  among  the  cottonwoods  and  across  low  grassy  points,  and 
still  that  inflexible  barrier  stretched  grimly  between  him  and  the  open 
prairie  to  the  south.  Once,  up  a  long  shallow  "  break,"  he  caught 
sight  of  the  roofs  of  some  of  the  ranch-buildings  full  a  thousand  yards 
away,  and  realized  that  he  had  passed  to  the  east  of  them  and  was 
farther  from  the  goal  of  his  ambition  than  when  he  stood  at  that 
bristling  gate.  At  last,  full  half  a  mile  farther  on,  he  saw  that  a  wire 
fence  ran  southward  again  across  the  prairie,  as  though  marking 
the  eastern  boundary  of  the  homestead-enclosure,  and,  conjecturing 
that  there  was  probably  a  trail  along  that  fence  and  an  opening 
through,  even  if  the  southeastward  line  should  be  found  fenced  still 
farther,  he  sent  Nolan  through  the  Monee  to  the  open  bank  on  the 
northern  side,  cantered  along  until  the  trail  turned  abruptly  southward, 
and,  following  it,  found  himself  once  more  at  the  fence  just  where  the 


DVNRAVEN  RANCH.  149 

heavy  corner-post  stood  deeply  embedded  in  the  soil.  Sure  enough, 
here  ran  another  fence  straight  up  the  gentle  slope  to  the  south,  a  trail 
along  its  eastern  side,  and  a  broad  cattle-gap,  dusty  and  tramped  with 
the  hoofs  of  a  thousand  steers,  was  left  in  the  fence  that,  prolonged 
down-stream,  spanned  the  northern  boundary.  Inside  the  homestead- 
lot  all  was  virgin  turf. 

Following  the  southward  trail,  Perry  rode  briskly  up  the  long 
incline.  It  was  east  of  this  fence  he  had  seen  the  cattle-herds  and 
their  mounted  watchers.  He  was  far  beyond  the  ranch-buildings,  but 
felt  sure  that,  once  well  up  on  the  prairie,  he  could  have  an  uninter 
rupted  view  of  them  and  doubtless  meet  some  of  the  ranch  people  and 
satisfy  himself  what  there  was  in  the  stories  of  their  churlish  and 
repellent  demeanor.  The  sun  was  climbing  higher  all  this  time,  and 
he,  eager  in  pursuit  of  his  reconnoissance,  gave  little  heed  to  fleeting 
minutes.  If  fair  means  could  accomplish  it,  he  and  Nolan  were 
bound  to  have  acquaintance  with  Dunraven  Ranch. 

Ten  minutes'  easy  lope  brought  him  well  up  on  the  prairie.  There 
— westward  now — was  the  mysterious  clump  of  brown  buildings,  just 
as  far  away  as  when  he  stood,  baffled  and  disappointed,  by  the  gate-way 
on  the  Monee.  Here,  leading  away  towards  the  distant  buildings,  was 
a  bridle-path.  Here  in  the  fence  was  a  gap  just  such  as  he  had  en 
countered  on  the  stream,  and  that  gap  was  barred  and  guarded  by  the 
counterpart  of  the  first  gate  and  firmly  secured  by  a  padlock  that  was 
the  other's  twin.  Mr.  Perry's  comment  at  this  point  of  his  explorations 
was  brief  and  characteristic,  if  not  objectionable.  He  gave  vent  to  the 
same  low  whistle,  half  surprise,  half  vexation,  that  had  comforted  his 
soul  before,  but  supplemented  the  whistle  with  the  unnecessary  remark, 
"  Well,  I'll  be  damned  !" 

Even  Nolan  entered  his  protest  against  such  incredible  exclusive- 
ness.  Thrusting  his  lean  head  far  over  the  topmost  wire  as  before,  he 
signalled  long  and  shrill, — a  neigh  that  would  have  caught  the  ear  of 
any  horse  within  a  mile, — and  then,  all  alert,  he  waited  for  an  answer. 
It  came  floating  on  the  rising  wind,  a  responsive  call,  a  signal  as  eager 
and  confident  as  his  own,  and  Nolan  and  Nolan's  rider  whirled  quickly 
around  to  see  the  source  from  whence  it  rose.  Four  hundred  yards 
away,  just  appearing  over  a  little  knoll  in  the  prairie,  and  moving 
towards  them  from  the  direction  of  a  distant  clump  of  grazing  cattle, 
another  horse  and  rider  came  trotting  into  hailing-distance ;  and  Perry, 

13* 


150  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

his  bright  blue  eyes  dilating,  and  Nolan,  his  dainty,  sensitive  ears 
pricked  forward,  turned  promptly  to  meet  and  greet  the  new  arrivals. 

For  fifty  yards  or  so  the  stranger  rode  confidently  and  at  rapid  trot. 
Perry  smilingly  watched  the  out-turned  toes,  the  bobbing,  "  bent-over" 
seat,  and  angular  elbows  that  seemed  so  strange  and  out  of  place  on  the 
broad  Texan  plain.  He  could  almost  see  the  "  crop"  in  the  free  hand, 
and  was  smiling  to  himself  at  the  idea  of  a  "  crop"  to  open  wire  gates, 
when  he  became  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  stranger's  mien  had  changed  ; 
confidence  was  giving  place  to  hesitancy,  and  he  was  evidently  checking 
the  rapid  trot  of  his  horse  and  throwing  his  weight  back  on  the  cantle, 
while  his  feet,  thrust  through  to  the  very  heels  in  the  gleaming  steel 
stirrups,  were  braced  in  front  of  the  powerful  shoulders  of  the  bay. 
The  horse  wanted  to  come,  the  rider  plainly  wanted  to  stop.  Another 
moment,  and  Perry  could  see  that  the  stranger  wore  eyeglasses  and  had 
just  succeeded  in  bridging  them  on  his  nose  and  was  glaring  at  him 
with  his  chin  high  in  air.  They  were  within  two  hundred  yards 
of  each  other  by  this  time,  and,  to  Perry's  astonishment,  the  next  thing 
the  stranger  did  was  to  touch  sharply  his  horse  with  barbed  heel, 
whirl  him  spitefully  about,  and  go  bobbing  off  across  the  prairie  at 
lively  canter,  standing  up  in  his  stirrups,  and  bestriding  his  steed  as 
though  his  object  were  not  so  much  a  ride  as  a  game  of  leap-frog. 

It  was  evident  that  he  had  caught  sight  of  Perry  when  Nolan 
neighed,  had  ridden  at  once  to  meet  him,  expecting  to  find  some  one 
connected  with  the  ranch,  and  had  veered  off  in  disgust  the  moment  he 
was  able  to  recognize  the  uniform  and  horse-equipments  of  the  United 
States  Cavalry. 

IV. 

Sweet-tempered  a  fellow  as  Mr.  Perry  confessedly  was,  there  was 
something  in  the  stranger's  conduct  that  galled  him  inexpressibly.  The 
tenets  of  "  society,"  the  formalities  of  metropolitan  life,  have  no  rec 
ognition  whatsoever  on  the  wide  frontier  when  once  the  confines  of 
the  garrison  are  passed.  Out  on  the  broad  expanse  of  the  Plains  the 
man  who  shuns  the  greeting  of  his  fellow  is  set  down  at  once  as  a 
party  whose  antecedents  are  shadowy  and  whose  character  is  suspicious  ; 
and  never  before  in  his  experience  of  several  years  and  his  wanderings 
from  the  Yellowstone  to  the  Washita  had  Ned  Perry  met  a  frontiers 
man  who  fled  at  sight  of  him,  except  one  horse-thief.  From  his 
handsome  mount,  his  garb,  and  his  general  appearance,  Perry  set  this 


DVNRAVEN  RANCH.  151 

stranger  down  as  one  of  the  Englishmen  residing  at  the  ranch.  It  was 
not  fear  of  arrest  and  capture  that  sent  him  scowling  away  across  the 
prairie ;  it  was  deliberate  intent  to  avoid,  and  this  was,  to  Perry's 
thinking,  tantamount  to  insult.  One  moment  he  gazed  after  the  re 
treating  form  of  the  horseman,  then  clapped  his  forage-cap  firmly 
down  upon  his  head,  shook  free  the  rein,  and  gave  Nolan  the  longed- 
for  word.  Another  instant,  and  with  set  teeth  and  blazing,  angry  eyes 
he  was  thundering  at  headlong  speed,  swooping  down  upon  the  un 
conscious  stranger  in  pursuit.  Before  that  sunburned,  curly-haired, 
bulkily-framed  young  man  had  the  faintest  idea  of  what  was  im 
pending,  Mr.  Perry  was  reining  in  his  snorting  steed  alongside  and 
cuttingly  accosting  him  : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  good  sir,  but  may  I  ask  what  you  mean 
by  trotting  away  when  it  must  have  been  evident  that  I  wanted  to 
speak  with  you  ?" 

The  stranger  turned  slightly  and  coolly  eyed  the  flushed  and  in 
dignant  cavalryman.  They  were  trotting  side  by  side  now,  Nolan 
plunging  excitedly,  but  the  English  horse  maintaining  his  even  stride ; 
and  stronger  contrast  of  type  and  style  one  could  scarcely  hope  to  find. 
In  rough  tweed  shooting-jacket  and  cap,  brown  Bedford  cords  fitting 
snugly  at  the  knee  but  flapping  like  shapeless  bags  from  there  aloft  to 
the  waist,  in  heavy  leather  gaiters  and  equally  heavy  leather  gloves,  the 
stocky  figure  of  the  Englishman  had  nothing  of  grace  or  elegance,  but 
was  sturdy,  strong,  and  full  of  that  burly  self-reliance  which  is  so 
characteristic  of  the  race.  Above  his  broad,  stooping  shoulders  were  a 
bull  neck,  reddened  by  the  sun,  a  crop  of  close-curling,  light-brown 
hair,  a  tanned  and  honest  face  lighted  up  by  fearless  gray  eyes  and 
shaded  by  a  thick  and  curling  beard  of  lighter  hue  than  the  hair  of  his 
massive  head.  He  rode  with  the  careless  ease  and  supreme  confidence 
of  the  skilled  horseman,  but  with  that  angularity  of  foot  and  elbow, 
that  roundness  of  back  and  bunching  of  shoulders,  that  incessant  rise 
and  fall  with  every  beat  of  his  horse's  powerful  haunch,  that  the  effect 
was  that  of  neither  security  nor  repose.  His  saddle,  too,  was  the 
long,  flat>seated,  Australian  model,  pig-skin,  with  huge  rounded  leathern 
cushions  circling  in  front  and  over  the  knees,  adding  to  the  cumbrous- 
ness  of  his  equipment  and  in  no  wise  to  the  comfort ;  but  his  bit  and 
curb-chain  were  of  burnished  steel,  gleaming  as  though  fresh  from  the 
hands  of  some  incomparable  English  groom,  and  the  russet  reins  were 
soft  and  pliable,  telling  of  excellent  stable  management  and  discipline. 


152  DUNEAVEN  EANCH. 

Perry  couldn't  help  admiring  that  bridle,  even  in  his  temporary  fit  of 
indignation. 

As  for  him, — tall,  slender,  elegantly  made,  clothed  in  the  accurately- 
fitting  undress  "  blouse"  of  the  army  and  in  riding-breeches  that  dis 
played  to  best  advantage  the  superb  moulding  of  his  powerful  thighs, 
sitting  like  centaur  well  down  in  the  saddle,  his  feet  and  lower  legs, 
cased  in  natty  riding-boots,  swinging  close  in  behind  the  gleaming 
'•  shoulders  of  his  steed,  erect  as  on  parade,  yet  swaying  with  every  mo 
tion  of  his  horse,  graceful,  gallant,  and  to  the  full  as  powerful  as  his 
burly  companion,  the  advantage  in  appearance  was  all  on  Perry's  side, 
and  was  heightened  by  Nolan's  spirited  action  and  martial  trappings. 
Perry  was  an  exquisite  in  his  soldier  taste,  and  never,  except  on  actual 
campaign,  rode  his  troop-horse  without  his  broidered  saddle-cloth  and 
gleaming  bosses.  All  this,  and  more,  the  Englishman  seemed  quietly 
noting  as,  finally,  without  the  faintest  trace  of  irritability,  with  even  a  sus 
picion  of  humor  twinkling  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  he  replied, — 

"  A  fellow  may  do  as  he  likes  when  he's  on  his  own  bailiwick,  I 
suppose." 

"  All  the  same,  wherever  I've  been,  from  here  to  Assiniboia,  men 
meet  like  Christians,  unless  they  happen  to  be  road-agents  or  cattle- 
thieves.  What's  more,  I  am  an  officer  of  a  regiment  just  arrived  here, 
and,  from  the  Missouri  down,  there  isn't  a  ranch  along  our  trail  where 
we  were  not  welcome  and  whose  occupants  were  not  '  hail-fellow-well- 
met'  in  our  camps.  You  are  the  first  people  to  shun  us ;  and,  as  that 
fort  yonder  was  built  for  your  protection  in  days  when  it  was  badly 
needed,  I  want  to  know  what  there  is  about  its  garrison  that  is  so  ob 
noxious  to  Dunraveu  Ranch, — that's  what  you  call  it,  I  believe  ?" 

"  That's  what— it  is  called." 

"  Well,  here !  I've  no  intention  of  intruding  where  we're  not 
wanted.  I  simply  didn't  suppose  that  on  the  broad  prairies  of  the 
AVest  there  was  such  a  place  as  a  ranch  where  one  of  my  cloth  was 
unwelcome.  I  am  Mr.  Perry,  of  the  — th  Cavalry,  and  I'm  bound  to 
say  I'd  like  to  know  what  you  people  have  against  us.  Are  you  the 
proprietor  ?" 

"  I'm  not.     I'm  only  an  employee." 

"  Who  is  the  owner?" 

"  He's  not  here  now." 

"  Who  is  here  who  can  explain  the  situation  ?" 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  I  fancy  I  can  do  it  as  well  as  anybody.     It  is 


DUNEAVEN  EANCH.  153 

simply  because  we  have  to  do  pretty  much  as  you  fellows, — obey  orders. 
The  owner's  orders  are  not  aimed  at  you  any  more  than  anybody  else. 
He  simply  wants  to  be  let  alone.  He  bought  this  tract  and  settled 
here  because  he  wanted  a  place  where  he  could  have  things  his  own 
way, — see  people  whom  he  sent  for  and  nobody  else.  Every  man  in 
his  employ  is  expected  to  stick  to  the  ranch  so  long  as  he  is  on  the  pay 
roll,  and  to  carry  out  his  instructions.  If  he  can't,  he  may  go." 

"And  your  instructions  are  to  prevent  people  getting  into  the 
ranch?" 

"  Oh,  hardly  that,  you  know.  We  don't  interfere.  There's  never 
any  one  to  come,  as  a  rule,  and,  when  they  do,  the  fence  seems  to  be 
sufficient." 

"  Amply,  I  should  say ;  and  yet  were  I  to  tell  you  that  I  had  busi 
ness  with  the  proprietor  and  needed  to  ride  up  to  the  ranch,  you  would 
open  the  gate  yonder,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  No  :  I  would  tell  you  that  the  owner  was  away,  and  that  in  his 
absence  I  transacted  all  business  for  him." 

""\yell,  thank  you  for  the  information  given  me,  at  all  events. 
May  I  ask  the  name  of  your  misanthropical  boss  ?  You  might  tell 
him  I  called." 

"  Several  officers  called  three  years  ago,  but  he  begged  to  be  ex 
cused." 

"  And  what  is  the  name  ?" 

"  Mr.  Maitland — is  what  he  is  called." 

"  All  right.  Possibly  the  time  may  come  when  Mr.  Maitland  will 
be  as  anxious  to  have  the  cavalry  around  him  as  he  is  now  to  keep  it 
away.  But  if  you  ever  feel  like  coming  up  to  the  fort,  just  ride  in  and 
ask  for  me." 

"  I  feel  like  it  a  dozen  times  a  week,  you  know ;  but  a  man  mustn't 
quarrel  with  his  bread-and-butter.  I  met  one  of  your  fellows  once  on 
a  hunt  after  strayed  mules,  and  he  asked  me  in,  but  I  couldn't  go. 
Sorry,  you  know,  and  all  that,  but  the  owner  won't  have  it." 

"  Well,  then  there's  nothing  to  do  for  it  but  say  good-day  to  you. 
I'm  going  back.  Possibly  I'll  see  some  of  your  people  up  at  Rossiter 
when  they  come  to  get  a  horse  shod." 

"  A  horse  shod  !     Why,  man  alive,  we  shoe  all  our  horses  here  !" 

"  Well,  that  fellow  who  rode  out  of  your  north  gate  and  went  up 
towards  the  fort  about  an  hour  or  so  ago  had  his   horse  shod  at  a 
cavalry  forge,  or  I'm  a  duffer." 
G* 


154  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

A  quick  change  came  over  the  Englishman's  face :  a  flush  of  sur 
prise  and  anger  shot  up  to  his  forehead :  he  wheeled  about  and  ga/ed 
eagerly,  loweringly,  back  towards  the  far-away  buildings. 

"  How  do  you  know  there  was What  fellow  did  you  see?" 

he  sharply  asked. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  who  he  was,"  answered  Perry,  coolly.  "He 
avoided  me  just  as  pointedly  as  you  did, — galloped  across  the  Monee 
and  out  on  the  prairie  to  dodge  me ;  but  he  came  out  of  that  gate  on 
the  stream,  locked  it  after  him,  and  went  on  up  to  the  fort;  and  his 
horse  had  cavalry  shoes.  Good-day  to  you,  my  Britannic  friend. 
Come  and  see  us  when  you  get  tired  of  prison-life."  And,  with  a 
grin,  Mr.  Perry  turned  and  rode  rapidly  away,  leaving  the  other 
horseman  in  a  brown  study. 

Once  fairly  across  the  Monee,  he  ambled  placidly  along,  thinking  of 
the  odd  situation  of  affairs  at  this  great  prairie-reservation,  and  almost 
regretting  that  he  had  paid  the  ranch  the  honor  of  a  call.  Reaching 
the  point  where  the  wagon-tracks  crossed  the  stream  to  the  gate-way 
in  the  boundary  fence,  he  reined  in  Nolan  and  looked  through  a  vista  in 
the  cotton  woods.  There  was  the  Englishman,  dismounted,  stooping 
over  the  ground,  and  evidently  examining  the  hoof-prints  at  the  gate. 
Perry  chuckled  at  the  sight,  then,  wrhistling  for  Bruce,  who  had  strayed 
off  through  the  timber,  he  resumed  his  jaunty  way  to  the  post. 

In  the  events  of  the  morning  there  were  several  things  to  give  him 
abundant  cause  for  thought,  if  not  for  lively  curiosity,  but  he  had  not 
yet  reached  the  sum  total  of  surprises  in  store  for  him.  He  was  still 
two  miles  out  from  the  fort,  and  riding  slowly  along  the  bottom,  when 
he  became  aware  of  a  trooper  coming  towards  him  on  the  trail.  The 
sunbeams  were  glinting  on  the  polished  ornaments  of  his  forage-cap 
and  on  the  bright  yellow  chevrons  of  his  snugly-fitting  blouse.  Tall 
and  slender  and  erect  was  the  coming  horseman,  a  model  of  soldierly 
grace  and  carriage,  and  as  he  drew  nearer  and  his  hand  went  up  to  the 
cap- visor  in  salute  a  gesture  from  his  young  superior  brought  an  instant 
pressure  on  the  rein,  and  horse  and  man  became  an  animated  statue. 
It  was  a  wonderfully  sudden  yet  easy  check  of  a  steed  in  rapid  motion, 
and  Mr.  Perry,  a  capital  rider  himself,  could  not  withhold  his  admi 
ration. 

"  Where  did  you  learn  that  sudden  halt,  sergeant  ?"  he  asked.  "  I 
never  saw  anything  so  quick  except  the  Mexican  training ;  but  that 
strains  a  horse  and  throws  him  on  his  haunches." 


DUNEAVEN  RANCH.  155 

"  It  is  not  uncommon  abroad,  sir,"  was  the  quiet  answer.  "  I  saw 
it  first  in  the  English  cavalry ;  and  it  is  easy  to  teach  the  horse." 

"  I  must  get  you  to  show  me  the  knack  some  day.  I've  noticed  it 
two  or  three  times,  and  would  like  to  learn  it.  What  I  stopped  you 
for  was  this :  you've  been  stable-sergeant  ever  since  we  got  here,  have 
you  not  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  if  anybody  besides  members  of  the  troop  had  horses  shod  at 
our  forge  you  would  be  pretty  apt  to  know  it  ?" 

"  I  know  that  no  one  has,  sir."  And  a  flush  was  rising  to  the 
young  sergeant's  face  and  a  pained  look  hovering  about  his  bright  blue 
eyes.  Yet  his  manner  was  self- restrained  and  full  of  respect. 

"  Don't  think  I'm  intimating  anything  to  the  contrary,  Sergeant 
Gwynne.  No  soldier  in  the  regiment  more  entirely  holds  the  confidence 
of  his  captain — of  all  the  officers — than  you.  I  was  not  thinking  of 
that.  But  somebody  down  there  at  that  big  ranch  below  us  has  had 
his  horse  shod  by  a  cavalry  farrier, — it  may  have  been  done  while  the 
Eleventh  were  here, — and,  while  I  knew  you  would  not  allow  it  at  our 
forge,  I  thought  it  possible  that  it  might  be  done  in  your  absence." 

"  It's  the  first  time  I've  been  out  of  sight  of  the  stables  since  we 
came  to  the  post,  sir,  and  the  captain  gave  me  permission  to  ride  down 
the  valley  this  morning.  May  I  ask  the  lieutenant  why  he  thinks 
some  ranchman  is  getting  his  shoeing  done  here  at  the  post?" 

"  I've  been  down  there  this  morning,  and  met  a  man  coming  up. 
He  avoided  rne,  and  rode  over  to  the  south  side,  and  so  excited  my 
curiosity ;  and  as  they  keep  that  whole  place  enclosed  in  a  wire  fence, 
and  he  had  evidently  come  out  of  the  north  gate,  I  was  struck  by  the 
sight  of  the  hoof-prints :  they  were  perfectly  fresh  there  on  the  trail, 
and  plain  as  day.  There's  no  mistaking  the  shoe,  you  know.  By  the 
way,  he  rode  up  to  the  fort,  and  probably  entered  at  your  side  of  the 
garrison  :  did  you  see  him  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  and,  except  for  breakfast, — just  after  reveille, — I  have 
been  at  stables  all  the  morning.  I  was  there  when  the  lieutenant  got 
his  horse." 

"  Yes,  I  remember.     Then  no  one  rode  in  from  the  valley  ?" 

"  No  civilian, — no  ranchman,  sir.  The  only  horsemen  I've  seen 
were  some  Cheyenne  scouts  during  the  last  two  hours,  and  Dr.  Quin, 
—just  before  sick-call." 

"  Dr.  Quin  ! — the  post  surgeon  !     Are  you  sure,  sergeant  ?" 


156  DUNKAVEN  KANCB. 

"  Certainly,  sir.  The  doctor  rode  into  the  post  just  about  an  hour 
after  the  lieutenant  left, — coming  up  the  valley  too.  He  went  right 
around  to  his  own  stable,  over  towards  the  hospital." 

A  look  of  amaze  and  stupefaction  was  settling  on  Perry's  face. 
Now  for  the  first  time  he  recalled  Mrs.  Lawrence's  intimations  with 
regard  to  the  doctor,  and  his  connection  with  the  signal-lights.  Now 
for  the  first  time  it  occurred  to  him  that  the  secret  of  those  cavalry 
hoof-prints  at  the  gate  was  that  no  ranchman,  but  an  officer  of  the 
garrison  had  been  the  means  of  leaving  them  there.  Now  for  the  first 
time  it  flashed  upon  him  that  the  Englishman's  astonishment  and  con 
cern  on  hearing  of  those  hoof-tracks  indicated  that  the  story  of  a 
mystery  at  Dunraven  in  which  the  doctor  was  connected  amounted  to 
something  more  than  garrison  rumor.  Now  for  the  first  time  an  ex 
planation  occurred  to  him  of  the  singular  conduct  of  the  horseman 
who  had  dodged  him  by  crossing  the  Monee.  Never  in  his  young  life 
had  he  known  the  hour  when  he  was  ashamed  or  afraid  to  look  any 
man  in  the  eye.  It  stung  him  to  think  that  here  at  Rossiter,  wearing 
the  uniform  of  an  honorable  profession,  enjoying  the  trust  and  confi 
dence  of  all  his  fellows,  was  a  man  who  had  some  secret  enterprise  of 
which  he  dared  not  speak  and  of  whose  discovery  he  stood  in  dread. 
There  could  be  little  doubt  that  the  elusive  stranger  was  Dr.  Quin,  and 
that  there  was  grave  reason  for  the  rumors  of  which  Mrs.  Lawrence 
had  vaguely  told  him. 

For  a  moment  he  sat,  dazed  and  irresolute,  Nolan  impatiently 
pawing  the  turf  the  while;  then,  far  across  the  prairie  and  down  the 
valley  there  came  floating,  quick  and  spirited,  though  faint  with  distance, 
the  notes  of  the  cavalry  trumpet  sounding  "  right,  front  into  line."  He 
looked  up,  startled. 

"  They're  out  at  battalion  drill,  sir/'  said  the  sergeant.  "  They 
marched  out  just  as  I  left  stables." 

"  Just  my  infernal  luck  again  !"  gasped  Perry,  as  he  struck  spur  to 
Nolan  and  sent  him  tearing  up  the  slope :  "  I  might  have  known  I'd 
miss  it !" 

V. 

That  evening  a  group  of  cavalry  officers  came  sauntering  back  from 
stables,  and  as  they  reached  the  walk  in  front  of  officers'  row  a  dark- 
featured,  black-bearded,  soldierly-looking  captain  separated  himself 
from  the  rest  and  entered  the  colonel's  yard.  The  commanding  officer 


D  TJNRA  YEN  EANCH.  1 57 

happened  to  be  seated  on  his  veranda  at  the  moment,  and  in  close 
confabulation  with  Dr.  Quin.  Both  gentlemen  ceayed  their  talk  as 
the  captain  entered,  and  then  rose  from  their  seats  as  he  stepped  upon 
the  veranda  floor. 

"Good-evening,  Stryker,"  said  the  colonel,  cheerily.  "Come  in 
and  have  a  seat.  The  doctor  and  I  were  just  wondering  if  we  could 
not  get  you  to  take  a  hand  at  whist  to-night." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  join  you,  sir,  after  parade.  I  have  come  in  to 
ask  permission  to  send  a  sergeant  and  a  couple  of  men,  mounted,  down 
the  Monee.  One  of  my  best  men  is  missing." 

"  Indeed  !     Who  is  that  ?     Send  the  men,  of  course." 

"  Sergeant  Gwynne,  sir.  The  first  time  I  ever  knew  him  to  miss  a 
duty." 

"  Your  stable-sergeant,  too  ?  That  is  unusual.  How  long  has  he 
been  gone?" 

"  Since  battalion  drill  this  morning.  He  was  on  hand  when  the 
men  were  saddling,  and  asked  permission  to  take  his  horse  out  for 
exercise  and  ride  down  the  valley  a  few  miles.  I  said  yes,  never  sup 
posing  he  would  be  gone  after  noon  roll-call ;  and  we  were  astonished 
when  he  failed  to  appear  at  stables.  Perry  says  he  met  him  two  miles 
out." 

"  The  two  culprits  !"  said  the  colonel,  laughing.  "  Poor  Perry  is 
down  in  the  depths  again.  He  rode  up  to  me  with  such  a  woebegone 
look  on  his  face  at  drill  this  morning  that  I  could  hardly  keep  from 
laughing  in  front  of  the  whole  line.  Even  the  men  were  trying  hard 
not  to  grin  :  they  knew  he  had  turned  up  just  in  the  nick  of  time  to 
save  himself  an  '  absent.'  What  do  you  suppose  can  have  happened  to 
Gwynne?" 

"  I  cannot  imagine,  sir,  and  am  inclined  to  be  worried.  He  would 
never  willingly  overstay  a  pass ;  and  I  fear  some  accident  has  happened." 

"  Is  he  a  good  rider  ?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"  None  better  in  the  regiment.  He  is  a  model  horseman,  in  fact, 
and,  though  he  never  alludes  to  nor  admits  it,  there  is  a  general  feeling 
among  the  men  that  he  has  been  in  the  English  cavalry  service.  Of 
course  there  is  no  doubt  of  his  nationality :  he  is  English  to  the  back 
bone,  and,  I  fancy,  has  seen  better  days." 

"  What  made  them  think  he  had  been  in  the  cavalry  service 
abroad  ?" 

"  Oh,  his  perfect  knowledge  of  trooper  duties  and  management  of 

14 


158  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

horses.  It  took  him  no  time  to  learn  the  drill,  and  he  was  a  sergeant 
before  he  had  been  with  me  two  years.  Then,  if  you  ever  noticed, 
colonel,"  said  Captain  Stryker,  appealing  to  his  chief,  "whenever 
Gwynne  stands  attention  he  always  has  the  fingers  of  both  hands 
extended  and  pointing  down  along  the  thigh,  close  against  it, — so." 
And  Stryker  illustrated.  "  Now,  you  never  see  an  American  soldier 
do  that ;  and  I  never  saw  it  in  any  but  English-trained  soldiers.  He 
has  quit  it  somewhat  of  late,  because  the  men  told  him  it  showed  where 
he  was  drilled, — we  have  other  English  '  non-coms./  you  know, — but 
for  a  long  time  I  noticed  that  in  him.  Then  he  was  enlisted  in  New 
York  City,  some  four  years  ago,  and  all  his  things  were  of  English 
make, — what  he  had." 

"  What  manner  of  looking  fellow  is  he  ?"  asked  the  doctor.  "  I 
think  I  would  have  noted  him  had  I  seen  him." 

"  Yes,  you  Englishmen  are  apt  to  look  to  one  another,"  said  the 
colonel,  in  reply,  "  and  Gwynne  is  a  particularly  fine  specimen.  He 
has  your  eyes  and  hair,  doctor,  but  hasn't  had  time  to  grow  grizzled 
and  bulky  yet,  as  you  and  I  have.  One  might  say  that  you  and  the 
sergeant  were  from  the  same  shire." 

"  That  would  help  me  very  little,  since  I  was  only  three  years  old 
when  the  governor  emigrated,"  answered  the  doctor,  with  a  quiet  smile. 
"  We  keep  some  traces  of  the  old  sod,  I  suppose,  but  I've  been  a  Yankee 
for  forty  years,  and  have  never  once  set  eyes  on  Merrie  England  in  all 
that  time. — Did  the  sergeant  say  where  he  wanted  to  go  ?"  And  the 
questioner  looked  up  sharply. 

"Nowhere  in  particular, — down  the  valley  was  all.  I  remember, 
though,  that  Mr.  Parke  said  he  seemed  much  exercised  over  the  name 
of  that  ranch  down  the  Monee, — I've  forgotten  what  they  call  it. — Have 
you  heard  it,  colonel  ?" 

"  Seems  to  me  I  have,  but  I've  forgotten.  You  have,  doctor,  have 
you  not  ?" 

"  Heard  what,  colonel  ?" 

"  The  name  of  that  ranch  down  the  Monee, — an  English  ranch, 
they  tell  me,  about  seven  miles  away." 

"  Oh,  yes  ! — that  one  !  They  call  it  Dunraven  Ranch. — Did  the 
sergeant  take  any  of  the  hounds  with  him,  captain  ?  It  occurs  to  me 
he  might  have  been  running  a  coyote  or  a  rabbit,  and  his  horse  have 
stumbled  and  fallen  with  him.  There  is  no  end  of  prairie-dog  holes 
down  that  way." 


DUNEAVEN  KA.NCH.  159 

"  No,  the  dogs  are  all  in.  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  had  gone 
to  the  ranch.  That's  an  English  name,  and  they  are  all  Englishmen 
down  there,  I  hear.  Very  possibly  that  is  the  solution.  They  may 
have  tempted  him  to  stay  with  English  hospitality ;  though  it  would 
astonish  me  if  he  yielded.  I'll  tell  the  men  to  inquire  there  first,  col 
onel,  and  will  go  and  send  them  now."  And,  bowing  to  his  com 
mander,  Captain  Stryker  turned  and  left  the  porch. 

The  doctor  rose,  thrust  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets,  paced  slowly 
to  the  southern  end  of  the  veranda,  and  gazed  down  the  distant,  peace 
ful  valley,  an  anxious  cloud  settling  on  his  brow.  The  colonel  re 
sumed  once  more  the  newspaper  he  had  dropped  upon  the  floor.  After 
a  moment  Dr.  Quin  came  slowly  back,  stood  in  front  of  the  entrance  a 
few  seconds  looking  irresolutely  at  the  soldier  sprawled  at  full  length 
in  his  reclining-chair,  stepped  towards  him  with  a  preparatory  clearing 
of  his  throat  as  though  about  to  speak,  and  then,  suddenly  and  help 
lessly  abandoning  the  idea,  he  plunged  down  the  short  flight  of  steps, 
hurried  out  of  the  gate,  and  disappeared  around  the  fence-corner  in  the 
direction  of  the  hospital.  Immersed  in  his  paper,  the  colonel  never 
seemed  to  note  that  he  had  gone ;  neither  did  he  note  the  fact  that  two 
ladies  were  coming  down  the  walk.  Possibly  the  vines  clustering 
thickly  all  over  the  front  of  his  veranda  were  responsible  for  this 
latter  failure  on  his  part,  since  it  took  more  than  a  newspaper,  ordi 
narily,  to  render  the  gallant  dragoon  insensible  to  the  approach  of  the 
opposite  sex.  They  saw  him,  of  course,  despite  the  shrouding  vines, 
and,  with  perfectly  justifiable  appreciation  of  the  homage  due  them, 
were  mutually  resolved  that  he  should  come  out  of  that  reclining  pose 
and  make  his  bow  in  due  form.  No  words  were  necessary  between 
them.  The  understanding  was  tacit,  but  complete. 

The  soft  swish  of  trailing  skirt  being  insufficient  to  attract  his  at 
tention  as  they  arrived  nearly  opposite  the  shaded  veranda,  a  silvery 
peal  of  laughter  broke  the  stillness  of  the  early  evening.  Mrs.  Bel- 
knap's  laugh  was  delicious, — soft,  melodious,  rippling  as  a  canary's 
song,  and  just  as  spontaneous.  Neither  lady  had  said  anything  at  the 
moment  that  was  incentive  of  merriment ;  but  if  Mrs.  Lawrence  had 
given  utterance  to  the  quaintest,  oddest,  most  whimsical  conceit  imagi 
nable,  Mrs.  Belknap's  laugh  could  not  have  been  more  ready,  and  her 
great,  dark  eyes  shot  a  sidelong  glance  to  note  the  effect.  Down  went 
the  paper,  and  up,  with  considerable  propping  from  his  muscular  arms, 
came  the  burly  form  of  the  post  commander.  Two  sweet,  smiling  faces 


160  DVNRAVEN  RANCH. 

beamed  upon  him  through  an  aperture  in  the  leafy  screen,  and  Mrs. 
Belknap's  silvery  voice  hailed  him  in  laughing  salutation  : 

"  Did  we  spoil  your  siesta,  colonel  ?  How  can  I  make  amends  ? 
You  see,  you  were  so  hidden  by  the  vines  that  no  one  would  dream  of 
your  being  there  in  ambush." 

"  Oh,  indeed,  I  assure  you  I  wasn't  asleep,"  answered  the  colonel, 
hastily.  "  Won't  you  come  in,  ladies,  and  sit  here  in  the  shade  awhile  ? 
You've  been  calling,  I  suppose?" 

"  Yes, — calling,  on  the  entire  social  circle  of  Fort  Rossiter.  Con 
gratulate  us,  colonel :  we  have  actually  accomplished  the  feat  of  visiting 
every  woman  in  society.  We  have  made  the  rounds  of  the  garrison. 
We  owe  no  woman  anything, — beyond  a  grudge  or  two, — and  it  has 
only  taken  forty-five  minutes,  despite  the  fact  that  everybody  was  at 
home." 

"  Well,  come  in,  Mrs.  Belknap ;  do  come  in,  Mrs.  Lawrence.  I 
assure  you  that,  though  everybody  must  have  been  enchanted  to  see 
you,  nobody  is  half  as  glad  as  I  am.  You  must  be  tired  after  such  a 
round  of  visits."  And  the  colonel  plunged  heavily  down  the  steps  and 
hospitably  opened  the  gate. 

"  We  thought  we  would  stroll  around  until  parade,"  said  Mrs. 
Lawrence,  hesitatingly,  "  and  then  sit  down  and  watch  it  somewhere." 

"  No  place  better  than  this,"  promptly  answered  the  colonel.  "  You 
can  sit  behind  the  vines  on  that  side  and  see,  or,  what  we  would  infi 
nitely  prefer,  sit  here  at  the  entrance  and  be  seen.  Meantime,  I've  been 
unpacking  some  photograph-albums  this  afternoon,  and  you  can  amuse 
yourselves  with  those  while  I  put  on  my  harness.  Come !" 

The  colonel's  collection  of  photographs  was  something  the  ladies 
had  already  heard  a  great  deal  of.  One  of  the  most  genial  and  popular 
officers  in  the  army,  he  had  gathered  together  several  large  albums  full 
of  pictures  of  prominent  men  and  attractive  and  distinguished  women, 
— not  only  those  with  whom  he  had  been  associated  in  his  long  years 
of  service,  but  men  eminent  in  national  and  state  affairs,  and  women 
leaders  in  society  in  many  a  gay  metropolis.  Both  the  ladies  had 
hoped  to  see  this  famous  collection  the  evening  before,  but  the  colonel 
had  not  then  unpacked  the  albums,  and  they  were  disappointed.  Now, 
however,  the  prospect  was  indeed  alluring,  and  neither  could  resist. 
When  the  first  call  sounded  for  parade  a  few  moments  after,  and  the 
commanding  officer  was  getting  himself  into  his  full-dress  uniform,  the 
two  pretty  heads  were  close  together,  and  two  pairs  of  very  lovely  eyes 


DUNRAVEN  EANCH.  161 

— one  dark  and  deep  and  dangerous,  the  other  a  clear  and  honest  gray 
— were  dilating  over  page  after  page  of  photographed  beauty.  There 
was  no  need  to  puzzle  over  the  identity  of  the  originals :  under  each 
picture  the  thoughtful  colonel  had  carefully  written  the  name  and  ad 
dress.  Absorbed  in  this  treat,  they  could  barely  afford  time  to  look 
up  and  smile  their  thanks  as  the  colonel  passed,  clanking  forth  at  the 
sounding  of  adjutant's  call,  and  were  too  completely  engrossed  in  their 
delightful  occupation  to  notice  what  took  place  at  parade. 

The  long,  slender  line  had  formed, — the  infantry  companies  on  the 
right  and  left  flanks,  their  neat  and  tasteful  dress  of  blue  and  white 
contrasting  favorably  with  the  gaudy  yellow  plumage  of  the  four  dis 
mounted  troops  of  the  cavalry.  Company  after  company  had  taken 
the  statuesque  pose  of  "  parade  rest"  and  its  captain  faced  to  the  front 
again,  the  adjutant  was  just  about  moving  to  his  post  on  the  prolonga 
tion  of  the  front  rank,  and  the  colonel  settling  back  into  the  con 
ventional  attitude  of  the  commanding  officer,  when  from  outside  the 
rectangular  enclosure  of  the  parade-ground — from  somewhere  beyond 
the  men's  barracks — there  came  sudden  outcry  and  commotion.  There 
were  shouts,  indistinguishable  at  first,  but  excited  and  startling.  Some 
of  the  men  in  ranks  twitched  nervously  and  partially  turned  their 
heads,  as  though  eager  to  look  behind  them  and  see  what  was  wrong ; 
whereat  stern  voices  could  be  heard  in  subdued  but  potent  censure : 
"  Keep  your  eyes  to  the  front,  there,  Sullivan  !"  "  Stand  fast,  there, 
centre  of  Third  Company !"  The  guard,  too,  paraded  in  front  of  its 
quarters  some  distance  behind  the  line,  was  manifestly  disturbed,  and 
the  voice  of  the  sergeant  could  be  heard  giving  hurried  orders.  Every 
man  in  the  battalion  seemed  at  the  same  instant  to  arrive  at  one  of  two 
conclusions, — prisoners  escaping,  or  fire  over  at  the  stables, — and  all 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  imperturbable  form  of  the  commanding  officer, 
as  though  waiting  the  signal  from  him  to  break  and  go  to  the  rescue. 
But  there  the  colonel  stood,  placid,  calm,  and  apparently  utterly  un 
conscious  of  the  distant  yet  nearing  clamor.  The  adjutant  hesitated  a 
moment  before  proceeding  further,  and  glanced  appealingly  at  his  chief; 
whereupon  there  came  from  the  blue  and  gold  and  yellow  statue  out 
on  the  parade,  in  half-reproachful  tones,  the  quiet  order,  "  Go  on  !"  and 
the  adjutant,  recalled  to  his  senses  and  with  evident  expression  of  his 
sentiments  to  the  effect  that  if  others  could  stand  it  he  could,  brusquely 
turned  his  head  towards  the  band  and  growled, "  Sound  off!"  The 
boom  and  crash  of  drum  and  cymbal  and  the  blare  of  brazen  throats 

14* 


162  D  UNEA  VEN  RANCH. 

drowned  for  a  moment  the  sound  of  the  turmoil  without.  The  next 
thing  the  battalion  heard,  or  saw,  was  a  riderless  horse  tearing  full  tilt 
out  on  the  parade  and  sweeping  in  a  big  circle  from  the  right  of  the 
line  down  towards  the  point  where  the  colonel  stood.  Following  him 
came  a  pair  of  Cheyenne  scouts,  their  ponies  scampering  in  pursuit, 
but  veering  off  the  green  as  their  riders  realized  that  they  were  intruding 
on  the  ceremony  of  the  day.  Relieved  of  his  pursuers,  the  fugitive 
speedily  settled  down  into  a  lunging  trot,  and  with  streaming  mane  and 
tail,  with  head  and  ears  erect,  with  falling  bridle-rein  and  flapping 
stirrups,  he  circled  rapidly  the  open  space  between  the  colonel  and  the 
line  of  battle,  then  came  trotting  back  along  the  front,  as  though  search 
ing  in  the  stolid  rank  of  bearded  faces  for  the  friends  he  knew.  Officer 
after  officer  he  passed  in  review  until  lie  came  to  Stryker's  troop,  posted 
on  the  right  of  the  cavalry,  and  there,  with  a  neigh  of  recognition, 
he  fearlessly  trotted  up  to  the  captain's  outstretched  hand.  Another 
minute,  and  two  men  fell  out  and  made  a  temporary  gap  in  the  rank ; 
through  this  a  sergeant  file-closer  extended  his  white  glove,  relieved 
the  captain  of  his  charge,  and  led  the  panting  steed  away.  The  men 
retook  their  places ;  the  captain  again  resumed  his  position  in  front  of 
the  centre  of  his  company,  dropped  the  point  of  his  sabre  to  the  ground, 
and  settled  back  into  "  parade  rest ;"  the  band  went  on  thundering  down 
the  line,  countermarched,  and  came  back  to  its  post  on  the  right,  making 
the  welkin  ring  with  the  triumphant  strains  of  "  Northern  Route," 
the  trumpets  pealed  the  "retreat,"  the  adjutant  stalked  his  three  yards 
to  the  front,  faced  fiercely  to  the  left  and  shouted  his  resonant  orders 
down  the  line,  three  hundred  martial  forms  sprang  to  attention,  and  the 
burnished  arms  came  to  the  "  carry"  with  simultaneous  crash,  ranks 
were  opened  with  old-time  precision,  the  parade  "  presented"  to  the 
colonel  with  all  due  formality,  the  manual  was  executed  just  as  punc 
tiliously  as  though  nothing  unusual  had  happened ;  first-sergeants 
reported,  orders  were  published,  parade  formally  dismissed ;  the  line 
of  officers  marched  solidly  to  the  front,  halted,  and  made  its  simul 
taneous  salute  to  the  colonel,  who  slowly  raised  and  lowered  his  white- 
gloved  hand  in  recognition ;  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  was  any  one 
allowed  to  speak  of  what  was  uppermost  in  every  mind, — that  Sergeant 
Gwynne's  horse  had  come  in  without  him,  and  that  the  animal's  right 
flank  was  streaming  with  blood. 

Ten  minutes  later,  Lieutenant  Perry,  in  riding-dress,  cam*»  hurrying 
down  to  the  colonel's  quarters,  where  two  or  three  officers  w*\re  now 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  163 

gathered  at  the  gate.  The  ladies  had  put  aside  the  albums,  and  with 
anxious  faces  were  scanning  the  little  group,  as  though  striving  to 
gauge  from  their  gestures  and  expression  the  extent  of  the  calamity  or 
the  possible  degree  of  danger.  But  Mrs.  Lawrence  looked  fairly 
startled  when  her  husband's  voice  was  heard  for  the  first  time  above 
the  general  hum  of  consultation  : 

"  Colonel  Brainard,  Mr.  Perry  is  coming,  I  see,  and  I  presume 
there  is  no  time  to  be  lost.  You  have  asked  if  none  of  us  who  were 
stationed  here  ever  visited  the  ranch,  and  the  answer  was  no.  May  I 
suggest  that  Dr.  Quin  could  perhaps  tell  something  of  its  inhabitants  ?" 

"  Where  is  the  doctor  ?"  asked  the  colonel,  turning  suddenly. 
"  Orderly,  go  and  give  my  compliments  to  the  post  surgeon  and  say  I 
wish  to  see  him  here  a  moment. — All  ready,  Perry  ?  You  have  made 
quick  work  of  it." 

"All  ready,  sir.  At  least,  I  will  be  the  moment  my  horse  gets 
here.  There  go  the  men  running  to  the  stables  now." 

"  Captain  Stryker  will  send  a  sergeant  and  four  men  to  report  to 
you,  and  you  are  to  go  direct  to  Dunraven  Ranch.  The  rest  of  the 
troop,  with  the  Cheyennes,  will  scout  the  prairie  to  the  east  and  south. 
"Twill  soon  be  too  dark  to  trail,  but  three  of  the  Indians  are  going 
back  on  the  horse's  track  as  far  as  they  can.  The  adjutant  is  writing  a 
note  to  the  proprietor  of  the  ranch, — I  don't  know  his  name " 

"  His  name  is  Maitland,  sir." 

"  Is  it  ?     Have  you  been  there  ?" 

"  I've  been  around  one  end  of  it,  outside,  but  nowhere  near  the 
buildings.  It's  all  fenced  in,  sir,  and  the  gates  kept  locked." 

"  What  an  incomprehensible  proceeding  for  Texas !  Wait  a  mo 
ment  while  I  speak  to  Mr.  Farnham  :  he's  writing  here  at  my  desk. 
— Gentlemen,  come  in  on  the  porch  and  sit  down,  will  you  not  ?" 

But  they  excused  themselves,  and  hastened  away  to  remove  their 
full  dress.  Captain  Lawrence  had  no  need  to  call  his  wife.  She  bade 
her  companion  good-evening,  thanked  the  colonel  with  a  smiling  glance 
for  the  pleasure  the  photographs  had  given  her,  and  added  a  word  of 
earnest  hope  that  they  might  find  the  sergeant  uninjured.  Then  she 
joined  her  husband,  and  together  they  walked  quickly  away.  Mrs. 
Belknap  and  Mr.  Perry  were  left  for  the  moment  alone. 

"Can  you  walk  home  with  me?"  she  asked,  in  her  low,  modulated 
tones,  the  great,  heavily-lashed,  swimming  dark  eyes  searching  his  face. 


164  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

"  I  have  not  seen  you  since  they  broke  in  upon  our  talk  last  evening, 
and  there  is  something  I  want  to  ask  you." 

"  I'm  sorry,  Mrs.  Belknap,  but  I'm  on  duty,  you  see,"  was  the  young 
fellow's  answer  as  he  gave  a  tug  to  the  strap  of  his  cartridge-belt. 
"  Can't  you  ask  me  here  ?" 

"  How  can  I  ?" — and  the  eyes  were  full  of  pathetic  disappointment, — 
"when  they  may  come  out  any  moment?  You  did  not  finish  telling 
me  about — about  the  tassel  last  night.  I  believe  you  were  glad  when 
they  interrupted  us.  Were  you  not?" 

"Nonsense,  Mrs.  Belknap!  I  was  having  too  good  a  time, — lots 
of  fun." 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reproachful  answer,  "  that  is  what  it  was — to  you, 
— mere  fun.  And  now  you  are  going  away  again,  after  promising  to 
come  in  this  evening." 

"  I  have  to  go,  Mrs.  Belknap.  Why,  I  want  to  go.  Haven't  you 
heard  what  has  happened, — about  Sergeant  Gwynne?" 

"Oh,  yes,  it  is  your  duty,  of  course;  but  how  unlucky!"  And 
the  pretty  face  was  drooping  with  its  weight  of  disappointment  and 
sadness.  She  leaned  against  the  railing  near  his  gauntlet-covered  hand, 
the  dark  eyes  pensively  downcast,  the  dark  lashes  sweeping  her  soft, 
flushing  cheek.  "  And  to-morrow  you  are  on  guard,"  she  presently 
continued. 

"  Yes,  unless  some  one  has  to  go  on  for  me, — in  case  we  are  not 
back  in  the  morning  in  time." 

"  Then  it's  good-by,  I  suppose,"  she  said,  lifting  her  eyes  once  more 
to  his.  "After  to-morrow  there  will  be  little  chance  of  seeing  you. 
Mrs.  Page  will  be  here  by  that  time." 

Mr.  Perry  looked  at  his  fair  companion  with  a  glance  that  told 
of  much  perturbation  of  spirit.  Mrs.  Page  was  an  old  and  cherished 
friend  of  Mi's.  Belknap's, — so  the  latter  had  always  said, — and  now 
she  was  coming  to  visit  her  from  a  station  in  the  Indian  Territory. 
Just  why  her  coming  should  prevent  his  seeing  Mrs.  Belknap  or  her 
seeing  him  was  more  than  the  tall  subaltern  could  understand.  On 
the  brink  of  an  unpardonable  solecism,  on  the  very  ragged  edge  of  a 
blundering  inquiry,  he  was  saved — in  her  estimation — by  the  sudden 
return  of  the  orderly  and  the  reappearance  of  the  colonel. 

"  I've  been  to  the  hospital,  sir,  and  to  the  doctor's  quarters :  he's 
not  there.  They  say  that's  him,  sir,  riding  off  y  \mder."  And  the 


D  UNBA  YEN  RANCH.  165 

orderly  pointed  to  a  faint  speck  just  visible  in  the  waning  twilight,  far 
away  southeastward  beyond  the  Monee. 

VI. 

Twilight  still  hovered  over  the  broad  expanse  of  prairie  when 
Lieutenant  Perry  and  his  little  party,  after  a  brisk  canter  down  the 
valley,  reached  the  barbed  enclosure  of  Dunraven,  and  the  young  com 
mander  led  unhesitatingly  to  the  gate-way  oil  the  northern  line.  A 
sergeant  of  his  troop  and  two  private  soldiers  were  his  escort  at  the 
moment ;  a  third  man,  by  direction  of  Colonel  Brainard,  had  been  sent 
at  the  gallop  in  pursuit  of  the  distant  speck  which  the  orderly  had 
pronounced  to  be  Dr.  Quin,  and  the  instructions  which  this  messenger 
bore  were  to  the  effect  that  the  post  surgeon  should  ride  by  the  most 
direct  route  and  join  Lieutenant  Perry  at  the  north  gate  of  the  ranch. 
In  the  few  minutes  which  elapsed  between  the  announcement  of  the 
doctor's  departure  on  his  solitary  and  unexpected  ride  and  the  arrival 
of  the  little  mounted  escort,  Perry  had  time  to  tell  the  colonel  some 
thing  of  the  situation  down  the  Monee  and  to  make  a  rough  sketch  of 
the  enclosure  and  the  distant  buildings.  The  direction  taken  by  the 
doctor,  up  to  the  moment  when  the  black  speck  disappeared  from  view 
in  the  waning  light,  would  be  very  apt  to  lead  him,  if  he  rode  far 
enough,  to  some  point  on  the  wire  fence  which  spanned  the  western 
limit  of  Dunraven  ;  but  that  point  would  be  at  least  five  or  six  miles 
south  of  the  valley.  Possibly  there  was  no  gate- way  north  of  that, — 
certainly  no  trail  was  visible  on  the  prairie, — but  the  more  Mr.  Perry 
thought  of  the  matter  as  he  rode  away  the  more  was  he  satisfied  that 
somewhere  far  down  that  western  line  there  was  an  entrance  where 
Dr.  Quin,  at  least,  had  the  "open  sesame."  All  the  grazing  thus  far 
had  been  done  north  of  the  Monee ;  all  the  hunting  and  coursing,  too, 
had  been  found  best  in  every  way  far  out  to  the  north  and  east  of  the 
post ;  and  so  it  happened  that  no  one  of  the  — th  seemed  to  have  ac 
quired  any  knowledge  of  the  English  ranch.  What  the  local  infantry 
command  was  able  to  tell  of  it  was  purely  hearsay.  None  of  the 
officers  had  ever  penetrated  the  charmed  enclosure,  and  no  one  of  the 
soldiers  was  known  to  have  done  so.  Perry  remembered  hearing  that 
the  Eleventh  while  stationed  there  had  made  some  scouts  and  expedi 
tions  out  to  the  south,  and  that  some  of  these  had  completely  circled 
the  broad  lands  of  the  estate,  finding  well-travelled  roads  leading  from 


166  D  UNRA  YEN  RANCH, 

its  southern  boundaries  to  the  settlements  two  days'  journey  farthei 
towards  the  Gulf;  but  nowhere  was  there  open  or  unguarded  gap. 
Cattle  with  the  Dunraven  brand  roamed  the  breaks  and  prairies  far 
away  towards  the  eastern  streams,  and  crossed  even  the  broad  trail  over 
which  the  great  Texas  "  drive"  of  "  long-horns,"  year  after  year,  passed 
up  across  the  valley  of  the  Washita.  Other  cattle,  of  choicer  breed, 
were  carefully  herded  within  the  wire  enclosure;  but,  thanks  to  the 
vigilance  of  the  manager  and  the  exertions  of  his  few  skilled  assistants, 
none  of  their  wandering  chattels  seemed  ever  to  venture  up-stream  to 
wards  the  fort,  and  all  excuse  for  a  visit  there  was  apparently  guarded 
against.  These  meagre  points  he  had  gathered  from  the  remarks  of 
one  or  two  officers  who  had  come  to  see  him  off,  and,  ignorant  of  his 
morning  expedition,  to  offer  suggestions  as  to  his  best  course. 

His  orders  were,  in  case  nothing  was  seen  or  heard  of  Sergeant 
G wynne  while  on  the  way  thither,  to  enter  the  enclosure  and  make  in 
quiries  at  the  ranch  itself.  Meantime,  the  Cheyenne  scouts  had  been 
hastily  summoned  from  their  lodges  along  the  Monee  just  above  the 
post  and  sent  scurrying  forth  upon  the  prairie  to  trail  the  horse's  foot 
prints  and  so  work  back  as  far  as  possible  before  darkness  interposed. 
Captain  Stryker,  too,  and  a  dozen  of  his  best  men,  had  mounted  and 
ridden  forth  in  long,  scattered  line  across  the  eastern  plain ;  and  these 
parties  were  all  five  miles  out  from  the  post  before  nightfall  fairly  hid 
them  from  view. 

One  thing  the  sergeant  had  to  tell  Mr.  Perry  which  confirmed  him 
in  the  belief  that  the  sooner  they  got  to  Dunraven  the  quicker  they 
would  be  at  the  scene  of  their  comrade's  mishap,  whatever  that  might 
prove  to  be.  He  had  had  no  time  himself  to  visit  the  stables  and  ex 
amine  the  wounds  on  the  horse's  flank,  but  as  they  rode  away  from 
Rossiter  he  turned  in  the  saddle  and  called  the  non-commissioned  officer 
to  his  side. 

"  What  sort  of  wound  is  it,  sergeant,  that  made  that  horse  bleed  so, 
—bullet  or  knife  ?" 

"  It  doesn't  look  like  either,  sir.  There  are  several  of  them, — jagged 
scratches  in  the  shoulder  and  along  the  flank,  like  thorns  or  nails " 

"Or  barbed  wire?"  suggested  the  lieutenant,  suddenly. 

"  Yes,  sir,  like  as  not ;  though  we  hadn't  thought  of  that,  not 
knowing  of  any  fences  hereabouts." 

"  You'll  see  fence  enough  presently.     That's  where  we'll  find  Ser- 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  167 

geant  G  wynne,  too.  Let  your  horses  out  a  little.  I  want  to  get  there 
before  dark,  if  possible." 

It  was  dark  in  the  timber,  however,  as  they  rode  through  and 
reined  up  at  the  gate-way.  It  would  be  half  an  hour  at  the  very  least, 
thought  Perry,  before  the  doctor  could  join  them,  if  he  came  at  all.  It 
was  by  no  means  certain  that  the  messenger  had  overtaken  him,  and, 
even  if  he  had,  was  it  probable  that  the  doctor  would  be  in  great  haste 
to  come?  His  mysterious  movements  of  the  morning,  his  undoubted 
connection  with  the  night-signals  from  the  ranch,  the  fact  that  he  had 
given  his  commanding  officer  no  inkling  whatever  of  these  outside  inter 
ests  of  his,  all  tended  to  make  Perry  distrustful  of  their  post  surgeon. 
He  would  not  speak  of  it  to  a  soul,  or  hint  at  the  possibility  of  such 
a  thing,  until  he  had  evidence  that  was  indisputable,  but  the  young 
officer  was  sorely  perplexed  by  these  indications  of  some  secret  and 
unlawful  enterprise  on  the  part  of  their  new  comrade,  and  he  doubted 
his  sympathy  in  the  mission  on  which  they  had  been  hurried  forth. 

Dismounting  to  examine  the  gate  while  still  pondering  this  matter 
over  in  his  mind,  Perry  found  it  locked  as  securely  as  he  had  left  it 
in  the  morning.  The  sergeant  and  his  men  dismounted,  too,  at  a  low- 
spoken  word  from  their  officer,  and  stood  at  the  heads  of  their  panting 
horses,  looking  in  silent  surprise  at  the  strong  and  impervious  barrier 
that  crossed  their  track. 

"  The  gate  is  locked  and  the  fence  impassable,  sergeant,"  said  Mr. 
Perry.  "  We  cannot  get  our  horses  through  or  over  unless  we  hack 
down  a  post  or  two.  You  can't  cut  such  wire  as  this  with  any  tool 
we've  got.  I'll  leave  Nolan  here  with  you  and  go  on  to  the  ranch  on 
foot :  it  lies  about  half  a  mile  to  the  south.  If  the  doctor  comes,  he 
can  follow  me.  If  I  do  not  come  or  send  back  in  half  an  hour  from 
this,  you  three  come  after  me,  for  I'll  need  you." 

With  that,  slowly  and  carefully,  and  not  without  a  muttered  mal 
ediction  on  the  stinging  barbs,  Mr.  Perry  wriggled  through  between 
the  middle  wires,  and  finally  stood  within  the  enclosure,  readjusting  his 
waist-belt  and  holster.  Then  he  took  his  revolver  from  its  leathern 
case,  carefully  tried  the  hammer  and  cylinder,  saw  that  each  chamber 
was  loaded,  and  turned  once  more  to  the  sergeant. 

"  Your  pistols  all  right  ?" 

"  All  right,  sir, — fresh  loaded  when  we  started." 

"  I  don't  know  that  they'll  be  necessary  at  all,  sergeant,  but  this  ib 
a  queer  place,  from  what  I've  heard  and  the  little  I've  seen.  Keep 


168  DUNRAVEX  RANCH. 

your  eyes  and  ears  open.  Captain  Stryker  and  some  of  the  men  may 
come  down  into  the  valley  if  they  find  no  trace  of  Gwynne  up  on  the 
prairie.  Watch  for  the  doctor,  too." 

Then,  through  the  deepening  twilight  he  strode,  following  the  trail 
that  led  southward  up  the  slopes.  Five  minutes'  brisk  walk  along 
the  springy  turf  brought  him  to  the  crest  and  in  view  of  the  lights  at 
the  ranch-buildings,  still  some  six  or  seven  hundred  yards  away.  All 
through  the  eastern  sky  the  stars  were  peeping  forth,  and  even  through 
the  gleam  of  the  twilight  in  the  west  two  brilliant  planets  shone  like 
molten  gold.  All  was  silence  and  peace  on  every  hand,  and,  but  for 
those  guiding,  glimmering  lights  at  the  south,  all  would  have  told  of 
desolation.  Behind  him  in  the  valley  waited  his  faithful  men.  Far 
beyond  the  Monee,  out  on  the  northern  prairie,  he  knew  that  comrades 
were  scouring  the  face  of  the  earth  in  search  of  their  missing  brother. 
Up  the  stream,  somewhere  behind  them,  the  Cheyennes  were  patiently 
trailing  the  hoof-tracks  as  long  as  the  light  should  last ;  he  knew  that 
search  must  be  at  an  end  by  this  time,  and  that  some  of  their  number, 
at  least,  would  be  riding  down  to  join  his  men.  Whoever  found  the 
sergeant  was  to  fire  three  shots  in  air :  the  signal  could  be  heard  a  long 
way  in  that  intense  stillness,  and  that  signal  was  to  recall  the  searching- 
parties.  Every  step  brought  him  deeper  into  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
yet  nearer  and  nearer  those  twinkling  lights  ahead.  Already  he  could 
distinguish  those  in  the  main  building,  the  homestead,  from  those  more 
distant  still,  in  the  store-rooms  and  office.  Far  over  among  the  stables 
and  corrals  he  heard  the  deep  baying  of  hounds,  and  he  wondered  if 
it  was  to  be  his  luck  to  encounter  any  enterprising  watch-dogs.  An 
English  bull-terrier  would  be  a  lively  entertainer,  thought  he,  with 
instinctive  motion  towards  the  flap  of  his  holster ;  and  it  would  be  a 
wonder  if  a  ranch  that  surrounded  itself  with  fifty  miles  of  barbed 
wire  fencing  were  not  further  environed  by  a  pack  of  watch-dogs  of  the 
most  approved  and  belligerent  breed.  Once  having  passed  the  distant 
barrier  of  that  gate  on  the  Monee,  however,  his  way  was  unimpeded, 
and,  to  all  appearance,  utterly  unmarked ;  he  had  arrived  within  fifty 
yards  of  the  foremost  building,  the  homestead,  before  he  was  brought 
to  a  halt.  Then  he  stopped  short,  surprised,  half  credulous,  and  all 
attention,  listening  to  the  "  concord  of  sweet  sounds"  that  came  floating 
from  the  open  casement  somewhere  along  the  east  front  of  the  big. 
gloomy  house. 


DUNBAVEN  RANCH.  169 

"One  part  of  the  story  verified,  by  Jove  !  It's  a  piano, — and  AY  ell 
played,  too." 

Full  a  minute  he  stood  there  listening.  Perry  was  a  dancer  whose 
nimble  feet  moved  blithely  to  any  measured,  rhythmical  strains,  and 
a  soldier  whose  soul  was  stirred  by  martial  music,  but  with  Chopin  and 
Mendelssohn,  Bach  and  Rubinstein,  he  had  but  slight  acquaintance. 
That  any  one  should  be  playing  a  piano  here  on  the  borders  of  the 
Llano  Estacado  wras  in  itself  sufficient  cause  for  wonderment ;  that  the 
invisible  performer  was  playing — and  playing  with  exquisite  taste  and 
feeling — one  of  the  loveliest  of  the  "  Lieder  ohne  Worte,"  the  Spring 
Song,  was  a  fact  that  conveyed  no  added  astonishment  to  his  soul :  he 
never  knew  it  until  one  sweet  night  long  after. 

However,  matters  more  pressing  than  music  demanded  Mr.  Perry's 
attention  just  here.  He  had  reached  Dunraven,  after  all.  Neither 
dog  nor  man  had  challenged.  Once  within  those  barbed  and  frowning 
barriers,  all  the  encircling  objects  spoke  of  security  and  rest.  Far 
away  towards  the  corrals  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  in  jolly  conver 
sation  }  a  rich,  melodious  laugh  rang  out  on  the  cool  evening  air ;  he 
heard  some  one  shouting  genial  good-night  to  somebody  else,  and  then 
the  slam  of  a  distant  door.  Presently  a  light  popped  out  from  a  win 
dow  in  what  he  believed  to  be  a  storehouse,  and  all  was  still  again. 
Even  the  piano  had  ceased.  Now  was  his  time,  thought  Perry ;  and 
so,  boldly  mounting  the  steps,  he  stood  upon  a  dark  portico  and  strode 
to  the  black  shadow  in  the  wall  before  him  where  he  knew  the  main 
d»or-way  must  be.  It  was  his  intention  to  knock  or  ring.  Up-stairs 
dim  lights  were  shining  through  the  open  windows,  but  on  this  front 
of  the  ground-floor  all  was  darkness.  His  gauntleted  hand  felt  all 
the  face  of  the  door  in  search  of  knob  or  knocker,  but  nothing  of  the 
kind  was  there ;  neither  was  there  such  a  thing  on  either  door-post. 
Just  as  he  decided  to  hammer  with  his  clinched  fist,  the  piano  began 
again.  He  waited  for  a  pause,  but  none  came.  This  time  the  music 
was  vehement  and  spirited,  and  no  banging  of  his  on  oaken  door-way 
would  be  audible  against  such  rivalry.  Uncertain  what  to  do,  he  con 
cluded  to  reconnoitre  the  eastern  front.  A  few  steps  brought  him  to 
the  corner,  and  there  lay  the  veranda  before  him,  bathed  at  its  farther 
end  in  a  flood  of  light  that  streamed  from  one  opened  Venetian  window, 
and  through  this  curtained  aperture  poured  the  grand  tones  of  the 
melody.  "  That  fellow  can  rattle  more  music  out  of  a  piano  than  any 
man  I  ever  heard,"  muttered  Mr.  Perry  to  himself,  as  he  strode  down 
H  15 


170  DUN  RAVEN  RANCH. 

the  wooden  gallery.  "  Wonder  if  it's  that  boss  cow-puncher  I  met  this 
morning."  Another  moment,  and  he  stood  at  the  open  window,  rooted 
to  the  spot,  and  with  his  frank  blue  eyes  fairly  starting  from  their 
sockets  in  amazement  at  the  sight  that  met  them,  all  unprepared. 

Across  a  spacious  room,  hung  with  rich  curtains,  carpeted  with 
costly  rugs  of  Oriental  make,  furnished  with  many  a  cosey  chair  and 
couch,  and  tables  covered  with  dainty  bric-d-brac,  and  shelves  with 
tempting  books,  lighted  by  several  large  and  beautiful  astral  lamps, 
some  with  colored  shades  of  crimson  and  gold  and  delicate  tint  of  blue, 
there  stood  close  to  the  opposite  wall  a  large  piano  of  the  class  known 
as  the  "  grand,"  rare  enough  among  the  railway  towns  west  of  the 
Mississippi  States,  but  utterly  unlocked  for  here,  a  week's  long  march 
from  the  nearest  of  the  Texan  railways.  That  in  itself  were  sufficient 
cause  for  much  surprise,  notwithstanding  the  measure  of  preparation 
he  had  had  in  Mrs.  Lawrence's  remarks. 

The  sight  that  wellnigh  took  his  breath  away  was  something  far 
more  than  the  interior  of  a  luxurious  and  beautifully-appointed  room. 
Nothing  that  had  been  said  or  hinted  prepared  him  in  the  faintest  degree 
for  the  apparition,  facing  him,  seated  at  the  piano,  of  a  performer  utterly 
unlike  the  "  cow-puncher"  whom  he  had  met  in  the  morning.  The 
"  fellow"  now  bending  over  the  key-board  was  a  young,  exquisitely  fair, 
and  graceful  woman.  Even  as  he  stood  there  in  the  full  glare  of  the 
parlor  lights,  she  lifted  up  a  pair  of  soft,  shaded,  lustrous  eyes  and  saw 
him. 

The  music  stopped  with  sudden  shock.  Tannhauser  was  undone. 
The  firm,  white,  shapely  hands  fell  nerveless  in  her  lap  ;  a  pallor  as  of 
faintness  shot  over  the  wild-eyed  face,  only  to  be  instantly  succeeded  by 
a  flush  that  surged  up  to  the  very  brows.  Startled  she  might  have 
been  for  an  instant ;  scared, — not  a  bit  of  it !  One  instant  only  of 
hesitation,  then  she  rose  and  swept  gallantly  forward  to  meet  him. 

Instinctively  Perry's  hand  went  up  to  the  visor  of  his  forage-cap 
and  bared  the  bright,  curling  crop  of  hair.  Speechless  with  amaze,  he 
could  only  bow  before  her  and  wait  her  question ;  but  it  was  a  moment 
before  she  could  speak.  Brave  as  she  was,  the  sudden  apparition  of  a 
stranger  staring  in  upon  her  solitude  from  an  open  casement  was  a  shock 
that  served  to  paralyze  the  vocal  cords.  He  could  see  that  she  was 
making  gallant  effort  to  control  the  tremor  that  had  seized  upon  her 
and  to  inquire  the  purpose  of  his  coming.  He  could  see,  too,  that  the 
sight  of  the  uniform  had  reassured  her,  and  that  there  was  neither 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  171 

indignation  nor  displeasure  in  her  beautiful  eyes.  Reserve,  of  course, 
he  expected. 

"  Did  you  wish  to  see  any  one  ?"  was  finally  the  form  her  question 
took  ;  and  Perry  had  time  to  comment  to  himself,  "  English,  by  Jove  !" 
before  he  answered, — 

"  I  did ;  but  let  me  first  ask  your  pardon  for  this  intrusion.  I  had 
no  idea  there  was  a  woman  at  Dunraven.  My  knocking  at  the  front 
brought  no  answer,  and,  hearing  the  piano,  I  followed  the  veranda. 
Believe  me,  I  am  as  surprised  as  you  could  possibly  have  been." 

Perry's  voice  was  something  greatly  in  his  favor.  It  was  modu 
lated  and  gentle  when  in  conversation,  and  with  even  a  caressing  tone 
about  it  when  he  spoke  to  women.  Evidently  the  sound  was  not  un 
welcome  to  this  one.  She  stood  erect,  her  fingers  interlacing  as  she 
clasped  her  hands  in  front  of  her  and  looked  him  well  over  with  her 
brave  eyes.  The  color  ebbed  and  flowed  through  the  creamy  whiteness 
of  her  face,  but  the  roses  were  winning  every  moment, — the  red  roses 
of  the  house  of  Lancaster. 

"  &nd — you  wished  to  see — whom  ?"  she  presently  asked,  with  cour 
tesy  in  every  word. 

"  Why,  I  hardly  know,"  answered  Perry,  with  a  smile  that  showed 
his  white  teeth  gleaming  through  the  curling  blond  moustache.  "  A 
sergeant  of  my  troop  has  been  missing  since  morning.  His  horse  came 
back  to  the  fort  just  as  we  were  on  parade  at  sunset,  bleeding  and 
without  his  rider.  We  have  searching-parties  out  all  over  the  prairie, 
and  I  was  ordered  to  come  here  to  the  ranch  to  make  inquiries." 

She  hesitated  a  moment, — thinking. 

"  My  father  is  at  home,  but  I  fear  he  is  not  well  enough  to  see  you. 
Mr.  Ewen  is  with  him,  and  he  might  know.  Will  you — would  you 
step  in  one  moment,  and  I  will  go  and  ask  ?" 

"  Thank  you  very  much.  I  wish  you  would  not  trouble  yourself. 
I  presume  I  can  go  over  to  those  stable-buildings,  or  wherever  it  is  the 
men  sleep :  they  would  be  most  apt  to  know  if  our  sergeant  has  been 
seen." 

"  Oh,  no  !  it  is  no  trouble ;  besides,  they  are  all  asleep  over  there  by 
this  time,  I  fancy.  They  have  to  be  out  so  very  early,  don't  you  know  ?" 

But  Perry  had  stepped  inside  even  as  he  offered  to  go  elsewhere, — 
a  fact  that  the  girl  had  not  been  slow  to  notice,  for  a  quizzical  little 
shadow  of  a  smile  hovered  for  an  instant  at  the  corners  of  her  pretty 


172  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

mouth.  "  Pray  sit  down,"  she  said,  as  she  vanished  into  an  adjoining 
room,  leaving  Ned  Perry  standing  gazing  after  her,  spell-bound. 

He  listened  to  the  swish  of  her  trailing  skirts  through  the  dimly- 
lighted  room  beyond,  through  an  invisible  hall-way,  and  then  to  the 
quick  pit-a-pat  of  her  feet  up  some  uucarpeted  stairway.  He  heard 
her  moving  quickly,  lightly,  along  the  corridor  of  the  upper  story  until 
the  foot-falls  were  lost  at  the  rear  of  the  house,  then  a  distant  tap  upon 
a  door-way,  and  a  soft  voice,  barely  audible,  calling,  "  Papa."  He  heard 
her  speak  again,  as  though  in  response  to  inquiry  from  within ;  he 
heard  her  raise  her  voice,  as  though  to  repeat  an  answer  to  a  previous 
question,  and  this  time  her  words  were  distinct.  "  An  officer  from  the 
fort,"  she  announced ;  and  then  followed  sensation. 

He  heard  a  door  quickly  opened ;  he  heard  men's  voices  in  low, 
eager,  excited  talk ;  he  heard  her  sweet  tones  once  more,  as  though  in 
expostulation,  saying  something  about  the  sergeant,  lost  or  wounded, 
and  they  were  merely  inquiring  for  him ;  he  heard  a  stern,  harsh  in 
junction  of  "  Silence  !  that  will  do  !"  some  quick,  hurrying  footsteps, 
a  man's  spurred  boots  descending  some  staircase  at  the  back  of  the 
house,  a  colloquy  aloft  in  fainter  tones,  and  then — closing  doors  and 
silence.  He  waited  five — ten  minutes,  and  still  no  one  came ;  but  the 
murmur  of  voices  in  subdued  but  earnest  controversy  was  again  audible 
on  the  second  floor,  and  at  last  a  door  was  opened  and  he  heard  the 
same  stern  tones  that  had  commanded  her  silence  before,  and  this  time 
they  said, — 

"  That  is  entirely  my  affair !  I  will  see  the  gentleman  myself,  and 
let  him  know  my  opinion  of  this  impudent  and — and — burglarious 
intrusion." 

"  Whew !"  whistled  Mr.  Perry  to  himself  at  sound  of  these  men 
acing  words.  "  This  is  bearding  the  lion  in  his  den  with  a  vengeance  ! 
Now  trot  out  your  '  Douglas  in  his  hall,'  and  let's  see  what  it  all  means. 
I've  seen  the  girl,  anyhow,  and  he  can't  take  that  back,  even  if  he  turns 
me  out." 

He  heard  a  heavy  step,  accented  by  the  sharp,  energetic  prodding 
of  a  cane ;  it  came  slowly  along  the  hall,  slowly  and  majestically  down 
the  stairs,  slowly  into  the  lower  front  room,  and  presently  there  loomed 
forth  from  the  darkness  into  the  broad  glare  of  the  astrals  at  the  hang 
ing  portieres  the  figure  of  a  tall,  gray-haired,  spectacled,  slimly-built, 
and  fragile-looking  Englishman,  erect  as  pride  and  high  spirit  could 
hold  a  man  against  the  ravages  of  age  and  rheumatism ;  sharp,  stern, 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  173 

and  imperious  of  mood,  as  every  glance  and  every  feature  plainly 
told  ;  vehement  and  passionate,  unless  twitching  lips  and  frowning 
brows  and  angry,  snapping  eyes  belied  him ;  a  man  who  had  suffered 
much,  unless  the  deep  lines  and  shadows  under  eyes  and  mouth  meant 
nothing  but  advancing  years ;  a  man  who  entered  full  of  wrath  and 
resentment  at  this  invasion  of  his  privacy, — this  forcing  of  his  guarded 
lines ;  and  yet — a  gentleman,  unless  Ned  Perry's  instincts  were  all  of 
little  worth. 

The  young  soldier  had  been  standing  by  a  centre-table,  coolly 
scanning  the  pictures  on  the  walls,  and  determining  to  present  a  rather 
exaggerated  picture  of  nonchalance  as  reward  for  the  hostile  language  of 
the  proprietor  of  Dunraven.  He  expected  to  hear  an  outburst  of  in 
vective  when  that  gentleman  reached  the  room ;  but  no  sooner  had  he 
passed  the  porti&re  than  he  halted  short,  and  Mr.  Perry,  turning  sud 
denly,  was  amazed  at  the  pale,  startled,  yet  yearning  look  in  his  quiv 
ering  face.  The  moment  the  young  man  confronted  him  there  came  as 
sudden  a  change.  It  was  with  evident  effort  that  he  controlled  himself, 
and  then,  after  brief  searching  study  of  Perry's  face,  accosted  him, — 
coldly  and  with  sarcastic  emphasis  : 

"  To  what  circumstance  do  I  owe  the  honor  of  this  intrusion  ?" 

"  I  regret  you  so  consider  it,  Mr.  Maitland, — as  I  believe  you  to 

be "     The  old  gentleman  bowed  with  stately  dignity.     "  One  of  oui 

men,  a  sergeant,  rode  down  this  way  quite  early  this  morning  and  failed 
to  return.  His  horse  came  back,  bleeding,  at  sunset,  and  we  feared 
some  accident  or  trouble.  Searching-parties  are  out  all  over  the 
prairies,  and  the  colonel  ordered  me  to  inquire  here." 

"Does  your  colonel  take  us  for  banditti  here,  and  ascribe  your  <le 
sertions  and  accidents  to  our  machinations  ?" 

"  Far  from  it,  sir,  but  rather  as  a  hospitable  refuge  to  which  the 
injured  man  had  been  conveyed,"  answered  Perry,  with  a  quiet  smile, 
determined  to  thaw  the  hauteur  of  Dunraven's  lord  if  courtesy  of 
manner  could  effect  it. 

"  He  is  utterly  mistaken,  then,"  answered  the  Englishman,  "and  I 
resent — I  resent,  sir,  this  forcing  of  my  gates  after  the  explicit  un 
derstanding  we  had  last  year.  As  a  soldier  I  presume  you  had  to  obey 
your  orders ;  but  I  beg  you  to  tell  your  colonel  that  his  order  was  an 
affront  to  me  personally,  in  view  of  what  has  passed  between  us." 

"  Nothing  has  passed  between  you,  Mr.  Maitland,"  answered  Perry, 
a  little  tartly  now.  "  We  have  reached  Fort  Rossiter  only  withiu  the 

15* 


174  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

last  fortnight,  and  know  nothing  whatever  of  your  understandings 
with  previous  commanders.  Permit  me  to  ask  you  one  question,  and 
I  will  retire.  Have  you  heard  anything  of  our  sergeant?" 

"  Nothing,  sir.  I  would  hardly  be  apt  to  hear,  for  my  people  here 
are  enjoined  to  keep  strictly  to  our  limits,  and  all  we  ask  of  our  neigh 
bors  is  that  they  keep  to  theirs.  I  presume  you  have  destroyed  my 
fences,  sir,  in  order  to  effect  an  entrance." 

"  Upon  my  word,  Mr.  Maitland,  you  make  me  rather  regret  that  I 
did  not ;  but  I  had  the  decency  to  respect  what  I  had  happened  to  hear 
of  your  wishes,  and  so  left  my  horse  and  my  men  outside,  and  footed 
it  a  good  half-mile  in  the  dark " 

"Ah!  that  sounds  very  like  it!"  replied  Mr.  Maitland,  with 
writhing  lips,  for  at  this  moment  there  came  the  dull  thunder  of 
rapidly-advancing  hoof-beats,  and  before  either  man  could  speak  again 
three  troopers  with  a  led  horse — all  four  steeds  panting  from  their 
half-mile  race — reined  up  in  front  of  the  eastern  portico  in  the  full 
glare  of  the  lights,  and  the  sergeant's  voice  was  heard  eagerly  hailing 
his  lieutenant. 

"  My  luck  again  !"  groaned  Perry.  "  I  told  them  to  come  in  half 
an  hour  if  they  didn't  hear  from  me,  and  of  course  they  came." 

VII. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence  in  the  brightly-illuminated  room. 
With  flushed  face  and  swollen  veins  and  twitching,  clutching  hands,  old 
Maitland  stood  there  glaring  at  the  young  officer.  Before  Perry  could 
speak  again,  however,  and  more  fully  explain  the  untoward  circum 
stance,  there  came  a  rush  of  hurrying  footsteps  without,  and  the  sound 
of  excited  voices.  The  next  minute  they  heard  an  eager,  angry  chal 
lenge,  and  Perry  recognized  the  voice  of  the  overseer  or  manager  whom 
he  had  met  in  the  morning. 

"  What  do  you  fellows  want  here  ?"  was  his  brusque  and  loud  in 
quiry  as  he  sprang  from  the  piazza  and  stood  confronting  the  sergeant, 
who  was  quietly  seated  in  the  saddle,  and  the  question  was  promptly 
echoed  by  three  or  four  burly  men  who,  in  shirt-sleeves  and  various 
styles  of  undress,  came  tumbling  in  the  wake  of  their  leader  and  stood 
now  a  menacing  group  looking  up  at  the  silent  troopers. 

If  there  be  one  thing  on  earth  that  will  stir  an  Irishman's  soul  t« 
its  inmost  depths  and  kindle  to  instant  flame  the  latent  heat  of  his  pug- 


DUN  RAVEN  RANCH.  175 

nacity,  it  is  just  such  an  inquiry  in  the  readily  recognized  accent  of  the 
hated  "  Sassenach."  Perry  recognized  the  danger  in  a  flash,  and, 
springing  through  the  open  casement,  interposed  between  the  hostile 
parties. 

"  Not  a  word,  Sergeant  Leary.  Here,  Mr.  Manager,  these  men 
simply  obeyed  orders,  and  I  am  responsible  for  any  mistake.  No  harm 
was  intended " 

"  Harm !"  broke  in  one  of  the  ranchmen,  with  a  demonstratively 
loud  laugh.  "  Harm  be  blowed  !  What  harm  could  you  do,  I'd  like 
to  know  ?  If  the  master'll  only  say  the  word,  we'd  break  your  heads 
in  a  minute." 

"  Quiet,  now,  Dick  !"  interposed  the  overseer ;  but  the  other  hands 
growled  approval,  and  Perry's  eyes  flashed  with  anger  at  the  insult. 
What  reply  he  might  have  made  was  checked  by  the  sight  of  Sergeant 
Leary  throwing  himself  from  the  saddle  and  tossing  his  reins  to  one 
of  the  men.  He  knew  well  enough  what  that  meant,  and  sprang  in 
stantly  in  front  of  him. 

"  Back  to  your  horse,  sir  !  Back,  instantly !"  for  the  sergeant's 
face  was  fierce  with  rage.  "  Mount,  I  say  !"  added  the  lieutenant,  as 
the  sergeant  still  hesitated,  and  even  the  sense  of  discipline  could  not 
keep  the  mounted  troopers  from  a  muttered  word  of  encouragement. 
Slowly,  wrathfully,  reluctantly,  the  soldier  obeyed,  once  turning  furi 
ously  back  as  jeering  taunts  were  hurled  at  him  from  among  the 
ranchers,  unrebuked  by  their  manager.  "  Now  move  off  with  your 
men  to  the  gate.  Leave  my  horse,  and  wait  for  me  there.  Go  !"  added 
the  young  officer,  sternly ;  and,  with  bitter  mortification  at  heart  and  a 
curse  stifled  on  his  quivering  lips,  the  Irishman  turned  his  horse's  head 
away  and  slowly  walked  him  in  the  indicated  direction. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Manager,"  said  Perry,  turning  fiercely  upon  the  younger 
Englishman,  "  I  have  done  my  best  to  restrain  my  men  :  do  you  look 
out  for  yours.  You  have  allowed  them  to  insult  me  and  mine,  and 
you  may  thank  your  stars  that  discipline  prevailed  with  my  people, 
though  you  have  nothing  of  the  kind  here." 

"  Your  men  have  cut  down  our  fences,  by  your  order,  I  presume," 
said  the  manager,  coolly,  "  and  it's  lucky  for  them  they  got  out  of  the 
way  when  they  did.  We  have  a  right  to  protect  our  property  and  eject 
intruders,  and " 

"  I  came  here  to  inquire  for  a  missing  man, — a  right  even  an  Eng 
lishman  cannot  deny  us  on  these  prairies.  We  had  excellent  reason  to 


176  VUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

believe  him  injured,  and  thought,  not  knowing  you  for  the  inhospitable 
gang  you  are,  that  he  might  have  been  carried  in  here  for  treatment : 
there  was  no  other  place.  Your  proprietor  tells  me  he  is  not  here. 
After  what  I've  seen  of  your  people,  I  have  reason  to  be  still  more 
anxious  about  him.  Scant  mercy  a  single  trooper  would  have  had  at 
their  hands.  Now  I  ask  you,  Do  you  know  or  have  you  heard  of  a 
cavalry  soldier  being  seen  around  here  during  the  day?" 

Perry  was  standing  holding  his  horse  by  the  curb  as  he  spoke,  facing 
the  parlor  windows  and  confronting  the  angry  group  of  ranchmen. 
Within,  though  nearer  the  window  than  he  had  left  him,  was  the  bent 
form  of  the  owner  of  Dunraven,  leaning  on  his  cane  and  apparently 
impatiently  striving  to  make  himself  heard  as  he  came  forward.  Be 
fore  the  manager  could  answer,  he  was  compelled  to  turn  about  and 
rebuke  his  men,  two  of  whom  were  especially  truculent  and  menacing. 
Finally  he  spoke : 

"  I  have  heard  nothing,  but  I  tell  you  frankly  that  if  any  of  your 
men  have  been  prowling  around  here  it's  more  than  probable  some  one 
has  got  hurt.  Has  there  been  any  trouble  to-day,  men  ?"  he  asked. 

"  By  God,  there  witt  be  if  this  ranch  isn't  cleared  in  five  minutes," 
was  the  only  answer. 

"Don't  make  an  ass  of  yourself,  Hoke,"  growled  the  manager. 
"  They  are  going  quick  enough." 

"  I  am  going,"  said  Perry,  swinging  lightly  into  saddle ;  "  and  mind 
you  this,  sir :  I  go  with  well-warranted  suspicion  that  some  of  these 
bullies  of  yours  have  been  responsible  for  the  non-appearance  of  my 
stable-sergeant.  If  he  is  not  found  this  night,  you  may  confidently 
look  for  another  visit.  I  say  that  to  you  also,  Mr.  Maitland ;  and  you 
owe  it  to  our  forbearance  that  there  has  been  no  bloodshed  here  to-night." 

Old  Maitland's  tremulous  tones  were  heard  but  a  second  in  reply 
when  he  was  interrupted  by  a  coarse  voice  from  the  crowd  of  ranch 
men,  by  this  time  increased  to  nearly  a  dozen  men.  Some  of  them 
were  gathering  about  Perry  as  he  sat  in  the  saddle,  and  an  applauding 
echo  followed  the  loud  interruption, — 

"  Give  the  swell  a  lift,  Tummy :  'twill  teach  him  better  manners." 

Almost  instantly  Perry  felt  his  right  foot  grasped  and  a  powerful 
form  was  bending  at  the  stirrup.  He  had  heard  of  the  trick  before. 
Many  a  time  has  the  London  cad  unhorsed  the  English  trooper,  taken 
unawares,  by  hurling  him  witli  sudden  lift  from  below.  But  Perry 
was  quick  and  active  as  a  cat.  Seat  and  saddle,  too,  were  in  his  favor. 


DUNE  A  YEN  RANCH.  Ill 

He  simply  threw  his  weight  on  the  left  foot  and  his  bridle-hand  upon 
the  pommel,  let  the  right  leg  swing  over  the  horse's  back  until  re 
leased  from  the  brawny  hand,  then  back  it  came  as  he  settled  again  in 
the  saddle,  his  powerful  thighs  gripping  like  a  vise;  at  the  same 
instant,  and  before  his  assailant  could  duck  to  earth  and  slip  out  of  the 
way,  he  had  whipped  out  the  heavy  Colt's  revolver  and  brought  its 
butt  with  stunning  crash  down  on  the  ranchman's  defenceless  head. 

•  There  was  instant  rush  and  commotion.  In  vain  old  Maitland 
feebly  piped  his  protests  from  the  veranda  ;  in  vain  the  overseer  seized 
and  held  back  one  or  two  of  the  men  and  furiously  called  off  the  rest. 
Aided  by  the  darkness  which  veiled  them,  the  others  made  a  simulta 
neous  rush  upon  the  young  officer  and  sought  to  drag  him  from  his 
plunging  horse.  Perry  held  his  pistol  high  in  air,  threatening  with  the 
butt  the  nearest  assailant,  yet  loath  to  use  further  force.  He  was  still 
in  the  broad  glare  of  the  parlor  lights, — a  conspicuous  mark  ;  eager 
hands  had  grasped  his  bridle-rein  at  the  very  bit,  and  he  could  not 
break  away ;  and  then  missiles  began  to  fly  about  his  devoted  head,  and 
unless  »he  opened  fire  he  was  helpless.  While  two  men  firmly  held 
Nolan  by  the  curb,  half  a  dozen  others  were  hurling  from  the  ambush 
of  darkness  a  scattering  volley  of  wooden  billets  and  chunks  of  coal. 
He  could  easily  have  shot  down  the  men  who  held  him.  It  was  sore 
temptation,  for  already  he  had  been  struck  and  stung  by  unseen  projec 
tiles  ;  but  just  as  the  manager  sprang  forward  and  with  vigorous  cuffs 
induced  the  men  to  loose  their  hold  on  his  rein,  there  came  three  horse 
men  charging  full  tilt  back  into  the  crowd,  scattering  the  assailants 
right  and  left ;  and,  this  time  unrebuked,  Sergeant  Leary  leaped  from 
the  saddle  and  with  a  rage  of  fierce  delight  pitched  headlong  into  battle 
with  the  biggest  ranchman  in  his  way.  And  this  was  not  all ;  for 
behind  them  at  rapid  trot  came  other  troopers,  and  in  a  moment  the 
open  space  was  thronged  with  eager,  wondering  comrades, — full  half  of 
Stryker's  company, — in  whose  overwhelming  presence  all  thought  of 
promiscuous  combat  seemed  to  leave  the  ranchmen.  They  slipped  away 
in  the  darkness,  leaving  to  their  employers  the  embarrassment  of  ac 
counting  for  their  attack.  Leary  was  still  fuming  with  wrath  and 
raging  for  further  battle  and  shouting  into  the  darkness  fierce  invective 
at  the  vanished  head  of  his  opponent.  He  turned  on  the  overseer  him 
self,  and  but  for  Perry's  stern  and  sudden  prohibition  would  have  had 
a  round  with  him,  but  was  forced  to  content  himself  with  the  informa 
tion  conveyed  to  all  within  hearing  that  he'd  "  fight  any  tin  min"  the 
H* 


178  DUXRAVEN  RANCH. 

ranch  contained  if  they'd  only  come  out  where  the  lieutenant  couldn't 
stop  him.  The  troopers  were  making  eager  inquiry  as  to  the  cause  of 
all  the  trouble,  and,  fearing  further  difficulty,  Perry  promptly  ordered 
the  entire  party  to  "  fall  in."  Silence  and  discipline  were  restored  in  a 
moment,  and  as  the  platoon  formed  rank  he  inquired  of  a  sergeant  how 
they  came  to  be  there.  The  reply  was  that  it  had  grown  so  dark  on 
the  prairie  that  further  search  seemed  useless,  Captain  Stryker  and  most 
of  the  men  had  been  drawn  off  by  signals  from  the  Cheyennes  up  the 
valley  towards  the  post,  and  these  men,  who  had  been  beyond  Dunraven 
on  the  northern  prairie,  were  coming  back  along  the  Monee  trail  when 
they  saw  the  lights  and  heard  voices  over  at  the  lower  shore.  There 
they  found  Leary,  who  was  excited  about  something,  and  before  they 
had  time  to  ask  he  suddenly  shouted,  "  They're  killin'  the  lieutenant. 
Come  on,  boys !"  and  galloped  off  with  his  own  party  :  so  they  fol 
lowed.  Perry  quietly  ordered  them  to  leave  a  corporal  and  four  men 
with  him,  and  told  the  senior  sergeant  to  march  the  others  back  to 
the  post :  he  would  follow  in  five  minutes.  Then  he  turned  to  the 
manager : 

"  You  will  have  to  put  up  with  my  keeping  some  of  my  men  with 
me,  in  view  of  all  the  circumstances,"  he  said,  coldly.  "  But  after  this 
exhibition  of  lawlessness  on  the  part  of  your  people  I  do  not  propose 
to  take  any  chances.  I  want  to  say  to  you  that  it  is  my  belief  that 
some  of  those  ruffians  you  employ  can  tell  what  has  become  of  our 
missing  man,  and  that  you  will  do  well  to  investigate  to-night.  As  to 
you,  Mr.  Maitland,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  old  gentleman,  who  had 
sunk  into  a  low  easy-chair,  "  much  as  I  regret  having  disturbed  your 
privacy  and — that  of  the — ladies  of  your  household,  you  will  admit 
now  that  justice  to  my  men  and  to  the  service  demands  that  I  should 
report  my  suspicions  and  my  reception  here  to  the  commanding  officer 
at  Fort  Rossiter." 

There  was  no  reply. 

"  I  wish  you  good-night,  sir,"  said  Perry ;  but  his  eyes  wandered 
in  to  the  lighted  parlor  in  search  of  a  very  different  face  and  form, — 
and  still  there  was  no  answer. 

The  manager  came  back  upon  the  piazza  and  stepped  rapidly 
towards  them.  Perry  quickly  dismounted  and  bent  down  over  the 
crouching  figure. 

"  Why,  here  !"  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  your  employer  is  faint,  or 
—something's  gone  wrong." 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  179 

"  Hush  !"  was  the  low-spoken,  hurried  answer  of  the  Englishman. 
"  Just  bear  a  hand,  will  you,  and  help  me  lift  him  to  yonder  sofa  ?" 

Easily,  between  them,  they  bore  the  slight,  attenuated  form  of  the 
old  man  into  the  lighted  parlor.  A  deathly  pallor  had  settled  on  his 
face.  His  eyes  were  closed,  and  he  seemed  fallen  into  a  deep  swoon. 
Perry  would  have  set  a  cushion  under  his  head  as  they  laid  him  down 
on  a  broad,  easy  couch,  but  the  manager  jerked  it  away,  lowering  the 
gray  hairs  to  the  very  level  of  the  back,  so  that  the  mouth  gaped  wide 
and  looked  like  death  itself. 

"  Just  steady  his  head  in  that  position  one  minute,  like  a  good 
fellow.  I'll  be  back  in  a  twinkling,"  said  the  manager,  as  he  darted 
from  the  room  and  leaped  hurriedly  up  the  hall  stairway. 

Perry  heard  him  rap  at  a  distant  door  apparently  at  the  southwest 
angle  of  the  big  house.  Then  his  voice  was  calling,  "  Mrs.  Cowan ! 
Mrs.  Cowan  !  would  you  have  the  goodness  to  come  down  quick  ?  the 
master's  ill." 

Then,  before  any  answer  could  be  given,  another  door  opened  aloft, 
and  trailing  skirts  and  light  foot-falls  came  flashing  down  the  stairway. 
Almost  before  he  could  turn  to  greet  her,  she  was  in  the  room  again, 
and  with  quick,  impulsive  movement  had  thrown  herself  on  her  knees 
by  his  side. 

"  Oh,  papa  !  dear  father  !  I  was  afraid  of  this  !  Let  me  take  his 
head  on  my  arm,  so,"  she  hurriedly  murmured  ;  "and  would  you  step  in 
the  other  room  and  fetch  me  a  little  brandy  ?  'Tis  there  on  the  side 
board." 

Perry  sprang  to  do  her  bidding,  found  a  heavy  decanter  on  the 
great  oaken  buffet,  half  filled  a  glass,  and  brought  it  with  some  water 
back  to  the  lounge.  She  stretched  forth  her  hand,  and,  thanking  him 
with  a  grateful  look  from  her  sweet,  anxious  eyes,  took  the  liquor  and 
carried  it  carefully  to  her  father's  ashen  lips. 

"Can  I  not  help  you  in  some  way?  Is  there  no  one  I  can  call?" 
asked  the  young  soldier,  as  he  bent  over  her. 

"  Mr.  Ewen  has  gone  for  her, — our  old  nurse,  I  mean.  She  does 
not  seem  to  be  in  her  room,  and  I  fear  she  has  gone  over  to  her  son's, — 
a  young  fellow  at  the  storehouse.  Mr.  Ewen  has  followed  by  this 
time." 

She  dipped  her  slender  white  fingers  in  the  water  and  sprinkled  the 
forehead  and  eyelids  of  the  prostrate  man.  A  feeble  moan,  followed 
by  a  deep-drawn  sigh,  was  the  only  response.  More  brandy  poured 


180  DUX  RAVEN  RANCH. 

into  the  gaping  mouth  seemed  only  to  strangle  and  distress  him.  No 
sign  of  returning  consciousness  rewarded  her  effort. 

"  If  Mrs.  Cowan  would  only  come !  She  has  never  failed  us  be 
fore  ;  and  we  so  lean  upon  her  at  such  a  time." 

"  Pray  tell  me  which  way  to  go.  Surely  I  can  find  her,"  urged 
Perry. 

"  Mr.  Ewen  must  be  searching  for  her  now,  or  he  would  have 
returned  by  this  time ;  and  I  dread  being  alone.  I  have  never  been 
alone  with  father  when  he  has  had  such  a  seizure." 

Perry  threw  himself  on  his  knees  beside  her,  marvelling  at  the 
odd  fate  that  had  so  suddenly  altered  all  the  conditions  of  his  unlooked- 
for  visit.  He  seized  one  of  the  long,  tremulous  hands  that  lay  so 
nerveless  on  the  couch,  and  began  rapid  and  vigorous  chafing  and 
slapping.  Somewhere  he  had  read  or  heard  of  women  being  restored 
from  fainting-spells  by  just  such  means.  Why  should  it  not  pre 
vail  with  the  old  man  ?  He  vaguely  bethought  him  of  burnt 
feathers,  and  looked  about  for  the  discarded  pillow,  wondering  if  it 
might  not  be  a  brilliant  idea  to  cut  it  open  and  extract  a  handful  and 
set  it  ablaze  under  those  broad  and  eminently  aristocratic  nostrils. 
Happily,  he  was  spared  excuse  for  further  experiment.  He  felt  that 
life  was  returning  to  the  hand  he  was  so  energetically  grooming,  and 
that  feeble  but  emphatic  protest  against  such  heroic  treatment  was 
manifest. 

"  I  think  he's  coming  to,"  he  said.  "  He's  trying  to  pull  away. 
Shall  I  keep  on?" 

"  Yes,  do  !  Anything  rather  than  have  him  lie  in  this  death-like 
swoon." 

Obediently  he  clung  to  his  prize,  rubbing  and  chafing  hard,  despite 
increasing  tug  and  effort.  Then  came  another  feeble,  petulant  moan, 
and  the  hollow  eyes  opened  just  as  rapid  foot- falls  were  heard  on  the 
veranda  without  and  Mr.  Ewen  rushed  breathless  and  ruddy-faced  into 
the  room. 

"Where  on  earth  can  that  woman  have  gone?"  he  panted.  "I 
cannot  find  her  anywhere.  Is  he  better,  Miss  Gladys  ?" 

"  Reviving,  I  think,  thanks  to  Mr. thanks  to  you,"  she  said, 

turning  her  eyes  full  upon  the  kneeling  figure  at  her  side  and  sending 
Perry's  heart  up  into  his  throat  with  delight  at  the  gratitude  and  kind 
ness  in  her  glance.  She  was  striving  with  one  hand  to  unfasten  the 
scarf  anil  collar  at  the  old  man's  neck,  but  making  little  progress. 


DUNE  A  YEN  RANCH.  181 

"  Let  me  help  you,"  eagerly  said  Perry.  "  That,  at  least,  is  more 
in  my  line."  And  somehow  their  fingers  touched  as  he  twisted  at  the 
stubborn  knot.  She  drew  her  hand  away  then,  but  it  was  gently,  not 
abruptly  done,  and  he  found  time  to  note  that  too,  and  bless  her  for  it. 

"  I  hate  to  seem  ungracious,  you  know,  after  all  that's  happened," 
said  Mr.  Ewen,  "  but  I  fear  'twill  vex  him  awfully  if  he  should  find 
you  in  here  when  he  comes  to.  He  has  had  these  attacks  for  some  time 
past,  and  I  think  he's  coming  through  all  right.  See  !" 

Old  Maitland  was  certainly  beginning  to  open  his  eyes  again  and 
look  vacantly  around  him. 

"  Better  leave  him  to  Miss  Gladys,"  said  the  overseer,  touching  the 
young  fellow  on  the  shoulder.  Perry  looked  into  her  face  to  read  her 
wishes  before  he  would  obey.  A  flush  was  rising  to  her  cheek,  a  cloud 
settling  about  her  young  eyes,  but  she  turned,  after  a  quick  glance  at 
her  father. 

"  I  cannot  thank  you  enough — now,"  she  said,  hesitatingly.  "  Per 
haps  Mr.  Ewen  is  right.  You — you  deserve  to  be  told  the  story  of  his 
trouble,  you  have  been  so  kind.  Some  day  you  shall  understand, — 
soon, — and  not  think  unkindly  of  us." 

"  Indeed  I  do  not  now,"  he  protested. 

u  And — whom  are  we  to  thank  ? — your  name,  I  mean  ?"  she 
timidly  asked. 

"  I  am  Mr.  Perry,  of  the  — th  Cavalry.  We  have  only  come  to 
Fort  Rossiter  this  month." 

"  And  I  am  Miss  Maitland.  Some  day  I  can  thank  you."  And 
she  held  forth  her  long,  slim  hand.  He  took  it  very  reverently  and 
bowed  over  it,  courtier-like,  longing  to  say  something  that  might  fit  the 
occasion  ;  but  before  his  scattered  senses  could  come  to  him  there  was 
another  quick  step  at  the  veranda,  and  a  voice  that  sounded  strangely 
familiar  startled  his  ears  : 

"  Gladys !  What  has  happened  ?"  And  there,  striding  to  the  sofa 
with  the  steps  of  one  assured  of  welcome  and  thoroughly  at  home  in 
those  strange  precincts,  came  Dr.  Quin. 

VIII. 

It  was  very  late  that  night — nearly  midnight — when  the  colonel, 
seated  on  his  veranda  and  smoking  a  cigar,  caught  sight  of  a  cavalry 
sergeant  hurriedly  passing  his  front  gate.  The  main  searching-parties 

16 


182  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

had  long  since  come  home,  unsuccessful ;  Lieutenant  Perry  had  re 
turned  and  made  report  that  the  people  at  Dunraven  denied  having 
seen  or  heard  anything  of  Gwynne,  that  both  proprietor  and  manager 
had  treated  his  visit  as  an  affront,  and  that  he  had  had  much  difficulty 
in  preventing  a  fracas  between  his  men  and  a  gang  of  rough  fellows 
employed  at  the  ranch,  that  finally  Mr.  Maitland  had  fallen  back  in  a 
swoon,  and  that  he  had  left  him  to  the  care  of  Dr.  Quin,  who  arrived 
soon  after  the  occurrence.  The  colonel  had  been  greatly  interested  and 
somewhat  excited  over  the  details  of  Perry's  adventure  as  that  young 
gentleman  finally  gave  them,  for  at  first  he  was  apparently  averse  to 
saying  much  about  it.  Little  by  little,  however,  all  his  conversation 
with  Maitland  and  Ewen  was  drawn  out,  and  the  particulars  of  his 
hostile  reception.  The  colonel  agreed  with  him  that  there  was  grave 
reason  to  suspect  some  of  the  ranch-people  of  knowing  far  more  of 
Sergeant  Gwynne's  disappearance  than  they  would  tell ;  and  finally, 
seeing  Perry's  indisposition  to  talk  further,  and  noting  his  preoccupa 
tion  and  apparent  depression  of  spirits,  he  concluded  that  between 
fatigue  and  rasped  nerves  the  young  fellow  would  be  glad  to  go  to  bed : 
so  he  said,  kindly, — 

"  Well,  I  won't  keep  you,  Perry  :  you're  tired  out.  I'll  sit  up  and 
see  the  doctor  when  he  gets  back  and  have  a  talk  with  him,  then  decide 
what  steps  we  will  take  in  the  morning.  I'll  send  a  party  down  the 
valley  at  daybreak,  anyway.  May  I  offer  you  some  whiskey,  or  a 
bottle  of  beer?" 

"  Thank  you,  colonel,  I  believe  not  to-night.  A  bath  and  a  nap 
will  set  me  all  right,  and  I'll  be  ready  to  start  out  first  thing  in  the 
morning.  Good-night,  sir." 

But  Colonel  Brainard  could  not  go  to  sleep.  The  garrison  had 
"  turned  in,"  all  except  the  guard  and  Captain  Stryker.  That  officer 
had  returned  an  hour  after  dark,  and,  getting  a  fresh  horse,  had  started 
out  again,  going  down  the  south  side  of  the  Monee  to  search  the  timber 
with  lanterns,  the  Cheyenne  scouts  having  reported  that  Gwynne's  horse 
had  come  up  that  way.  He  had  been  missed  by  Mr.  Perry,  who  gal 
loped  up  the  trail  to  catch  the  platoon  before  it  reached  the  post,  and 
the  colonel,  now  that  he  had  heard  the  lieutenant's  story,  was  im 
patiently  awaiting  his  return.  Up  to  within  a  few  minutes  of  mid 
night,  however,  neither  Stryker  nor  the  doctor  had  come ;  dim  lights 
were  burning  in  both  their  quarters  and  at  the  guard-house.  Every 
where  else  the  garrison  seemed  shrouded  in  darkness.  Catching  sight 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  183 

of  the  yellow  chevrons  as  they  flitted  through  the  flood  of  light  that 
poured  from  his  open  door-way,  the  colonel  instantly  divined  that  this 
must  be  a  sergeant  of  Stryker's  troop  going  in  search  of  his  captain, 
and  promptly  hailed  him  : 

"  What  is  it,  sergeant  ?     Any  news  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir/'  answered  the  soldier,  halting  short.  "  Sergeant  Gwynne's 
come  hack.  I  was  going  to  the  captain's  to  report." 

"  How  did  he  get  back.     Isn't  he  injured  ?" 

"  He  says  he's  had  a  fall,  sir,  and  has  been  badly  shaken  up,  but 
he  walked  in."  . 

"  Why,  that's  singular !  Did  he  meet  none  of  the  searching-par 
ties  ? — see  none  of  their  lights  ?" 

"  I  can't  make  out,  sir.  He's  a  little  queer, — doesn't  want  to  talk, 
sir.  He  asked  if  his  horse  got  in  all  right,  and  went  and  examined 
the  scratches,  and  seemed  troubled  about  them ;  but  he  doesn't  say 
anything." 

"  Has  he  gone  to  the  hospital  ?" 

"  l$o,  sir  :  he'll  sleep  in  his  usual  bunk  at  the  stables  to-night.  He 
is  only  bruised  and  sore,  he  says.  His  face  is  cut  and  scratched  and 
bound  up  in  his  handkerchief." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  colonel,  after  a  moment's  thought.  "  The 
captain  will  look  into  the  matter  when  he  gets  back.  You  take  your 
horse  and  ride  down  the  south  side  of  the  valley  and  find  the  Chey 
enne  scouts.  Captain  Stryker  is  with  them.  Tell  him  the  sergeant  is 
home,  safe." 

"  Very  well,  sir."  And  the  trooper  saluted,  faced  about,  and  dis 
appeared  in  the  darkness ;  while  the  colonel  arose,  and,  puffing  thought 
fully  at  his  cigar,  began  pacing  slowly  up  and  down  the  piazza.  He 
wished  Stryker  were  home ;  he  wished  Captain  Lawrence  were  officer 
of  the  day,  and,  so,  liable  to  come  out  of  his  quarters  again  :  he  had 
heard  just  enough  about  that  odd  English  ranch  to  make  him  feel  dis 
turbed  and  ill  at  ease.  There  had  evidently  been  hostility  between  his 
predecessor  and  the  proprietor  of  Dunraven,  and  very  probably  there 
had  been  bad  blood  between  the  men  of  the  Eleventh  Cavalry  and  the 
employees  of  the  ranch  :  else  why  should  there  have  been  so  unprovoked 
an  assault  upon  the  lieutenant  this  night?  Then  there  were  other 
things  that  gave  him  disquiet.  Several  officers  had  gathered  upon  the 
piazza  during  the  early  evening ;  they  were  mainly  of  his  own  regi 
ment,  but  Captain  Belknap  and  two  of  the  infantry  subalterns  were 


184  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

there ;  Lawrence  did  not  come.  Of  course  the  talk  was  about  the 
incident  of  the  evening,  and,  later,  the  rumors  about  Dunraven.  All 
this  was  new  to  the  cavalrymen  :  they  had  heard,  as  yet,  nothing  at  all, 
and  were  not  a  little  taken  aback  by  the  evident  embarrassment  and 
ominous  silence  of  the  three  infantrymen,  when  the  colonel  turned 
suddenly  on  Belknap  with  the  question, — 

"  By  the  way,  captain,  I  had  no  time  to  ask  Lawrence,  and  it  really 
did  not  occur  to  me  until  after  he  had  gone,  but — what  did  he  mean 
by  saying  that  Dr.  Quin  could  tell  us  something  about  the  people  at 
Dunraveu  ?" 

Belknap  turned  red  and  looked  uncomfortably  at  his  two  comrades, 
as  though  appealing  to  them  for  aid.  The  younger  officers,  however, 
would  say  nothing  at  all,  and  the  colonel  promptly  saw  that  he  had 
stumbled  on  some  piece  of  garrison  gossip. 

"  Never  mind,"  he  said,  with  a  kindly  laugh.  "  I  don't  want  to 
drag  any  stories  out  by  the  roots.  The  doctor  can  doubtless  explain 
it  all  in  good  season." 

"  Well,  Colonel  Brainard,"  answered  Belknap,  bulkily,  "  to  tell  the 
truth,  I  really  don't  know  anything  about  it,  and  I  don't  know  any 
one  who  does,  though  I  have  heard  some  woman-talk  about  the  post. 
The  relations  between  Dr.  Quin  and  some  of  the  officers  of  the  Eleventh 
were  rather  strained,  and  he  is  a  somewhat  reserved  and  secretive  man. 
The  stories  were  set  afloat  here  last  fall,  and  we  had  to  hear  more  or 
less  of  them  until  the  Eleventh  went  away  this  spring.  We  know 
only  that  Dr.  Quin  has  been  to  Dunraven  and  the  rest  of  us  haven't. 
Possibly  some  of  the  Eleventh  were  piqued  because  they  had  no  such 
luck,  or  perhaps  their  ladies  did  not  like  it  because  Quin  wouldn't 
tell  them  anything  about  what  he  saw.  At  all  events,  he  refused  to 
talk  on  the  subject  at  all,  and  allowed  people  to  draw  their  own  conclu 
sions." 

"  He  probably  told  his  post  commander,"  suggested  Lieutenant 
Farnham,  who,  as  acting  adjutant  of  the  post  and  an  aspirant  for  the 
adjutancy  of  the  regiment,  thought  it  a  good  opportunity  of  putting  in 
a  word  as  indicative  of  what  he  considered  the  bounden  duty  of  an 
officer  under  like  circumstances. 

"  Well,  no,  I  fancy  not,"  replied  Belknap.  "  About  the  only  thing 
we  really  do  know  is  that,  in  a  somewhat  angry  interview  last  fall, 
Colonel  Strattou  forbade  Dr.  Quin's  leaving  the  post  or  going  to  Dun- 


DUXRAVEN  RANCH.  185 

raven  without  his  express  permission.  I  happened  to  be  in  the  office 
at  the  time." 

"  Was  it  before  or  after  that  that  he  was  said  to  go  there  so  often  ?" 
asked  Farnham. 

"  Well,  both,"  answered  Belknap,  reluctantly.  "  But  understand 
me,  Mr.  Farnham,  I  know  nothing  whatever  of  the  matter." 

"  I  should  not  suppose  that  Colonel  Stratton  would  care  to  restrict 
his  post  surgeon  from  going  thither  if  they  needed  his  professional 
services,"  said  Colonel  Brainard,  pleasantly. 

"  That  was  the  point  at  issue,  apparently,"  answered  Belknap. 
"  Colonel  Stratton  said  that  it  was  not  on  professional  grounds  that 
he  went,  and  thereby  seemed  to  widen  the  breach  between  them.  Dr. 
Quiu  would  not  speak  to  the  colonel  after  that,  except  when  duty  re 
quired  it." 

The  conversation  changed  here,  and  little  more  was  said  ;  but  Colonel 
Brainard  could  not  help  thinking  of  a  matter  that  he  carefully  kept  to 
himself.  It  was  not  his  custom  to  require  his  officers  to  ask  permission 
to  leave  the  garrison  for  a  ride  or  hunt  when  they  were  to  be  absent 
from  no  duty,  and  only  by  day.  Here  it  was  midnight,  as  he 
thought  it  over,  and  the  doctor  had  not  returned,  neither  had  he  men 
tioned  his  desire  to  ride  away,  although  he  had  been  with  the  colonel 
wellnigh  an  hour  before  parade.  True,  he  had  sent  the  doctor  word  to 
go  and  join  Lieutenant  Perry  at  the  gate  of  Dunraven,  and  that  would 
account  for  his  detention ;  but  he  knew  that  the  surgeon  was  several 
miles  away  from  his  post  and  his  patients  at  the  moment  that  message 
was  sent. 

Meantime,  Perry,  too,  was  having  a  communion  with  himself  and 
finding  it  all  vexation  of  spirit.  All  the  way  home  the  memory  of 
that  sweet  English  face  was  uppermost  in  his  thoughts.  He  had  been 
startled  at  the  sight  of  a  young  and  fair  woman  at  Dunraven  ;  he  had 
felt  a  sense  of  inexplicable  rejoicing  when  she  said  to  him,  "  I  am  Miss 
Maitland  ;"  it  would  have  jarred  him  to  know  that  she  was  wife ;  he 
was  happy,  kneeling  by  the  side  of  the  beautiful  girl  he  had  never  seen 
before  that  very  evening,  and  delighted  that  he  could  be  of  service  to  her. 
All  this  was  retrospect  worth  indulging ;  but  then  arose  the  black  shadow 
on  his  vision.  How  came  Dr.  Quin  striding  in  there  as  though  "  native 
and  to  the  manner  born"  ? — how  came  he  to  call  her  "  Gladys"  ?  Perry 
had  been  pondering  over  this  matter  for  full  half  an  hour  on  the 
homeward  ride  before  he  bethought  him  of  Mrs.  Lawrence's  remarks 

16* 


186  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

about  the  signal-lights.  One  thing  led  to  another  in  his  recollection 
of  her  talk.  The  doctor  answered  the  signals, — no  one  else ;  the  doctor 
and  no  one  else  was  received  at  Dunraven ;  the  doctor  had  declined  to 
answer  any  questions  about  the  people  at  the  ranch, — had  been  silent 
and  mysterious,  yet  frequent  in  his  visits.  And  then,  more  than  all, 
what  was  that  Mrs.  Lawrence  had  said  or  intimated,  that  Mrs.  Quin, 
"  such  a  lovely  woman,  too,"  had  taken  her  children  and  left  him  early 
that  spring,  and  all  on  account  of  somebody  or  something  connected 
with  Dunraven  Ranch  ?  Good  heavens  !  It  could  not  be  "  Gladys." 
And  yet 

Instead  of  taking  a  bath  and  going  to  bed,  Mr.  Perry  poked  his 
head  into  Parke's  bachelor  chamber  as  he  reached  the  little  cottage  they 
shared  in  common.  No  Gladys  disturbed  the  junior's  dreams,  ap 
parently,  for  he  was  breathing  regularly,  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the  just ; 
and  so,  finding  no  one  to  talk  to  and  being  in  no  mood  to  go  to  bed  at 
an  hour  so  comparatively  early  when  he  had  so  much  to  think  about, 
Perry  filled  a  pipe  and  perched  himself  in  a  big  chair  by  the  window- 
seat,  intending  to  think  it  all  over  again.  He  was  beginning  to  hate 
that  doctor :  he  would  have  chafed  at  the  idea  of  any  bachelor's  being 
before  him  in  an  acquaintance  with  Gladys  Maitland,  but  a  married 
man,  knowing  her  so  well  as  to  make  his  wife  jealous  and  himself  in- 
diflerent  to  that  fact, — knowing  her  so  well  as  to  drive  "  such  a  lovely 
woman,  too,"  into  taking  her  children  and  quitting  the  marital  roof, — 
that  was  too  much  of  a  bad  thing,  and  Perry  was  sore  discomfited. 
He  got  up,  impatient  and  restless,  passed  out  to  the  little  piazza  in  front 
of  his  quarters,  and  began  pacing  up  and  down,  the  glow  from  his  corn 
cob  pipe  making  a  fiery  trail  in  the  darkness.  He  would  have  been 
glad  to  go  back  to  the  colonel  and  keep  watch  with  him ;  but  there  was 
one  thing  connected  with  his  visit  to  Dunraven  that  he  could  not  bear 
to  speak  of,  especially  as  those  words  of  Mrs.  Lawrence  recurred  again 
and  again  to  his  memory.  He  had  not  said  one  word — he  did  not 
want  to  tell — of  Gladys  Maitland. 

And  so  it  happened  that  Perry,  too,  was  awake  and  astir  when  the 
footsteps  of  the  cavalry  sergeant  were  heard  on  their  way  to  Captain 
Stryker's  quarters.  Listening,  he  noted  that  the  soldier  had  halted  at 
the  colonel's,  held  a  brief  conversation  with  that  officer,  and  then  turned 
back  across  the  parade.  Instantly  divining  that  news  had  come  of 
Sergeant  Gwynne,  Perry  seized  his  forage-cap  and  hurried  in  pursuit. 
He  overtook  the  trooper  just  beyond  the  guard-house,  and  went  with 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  187 

him  eagerly  to  the  stables.  A  moment  more,  and  he  was  bending  over 
a  soldier's  bedside  in  a  little  room  adjoining  the  forage-shed  and  by  the 
light  of  a  dim  stable-lantern  looking  down  into  the  bruised  and  battered 
features  of  the  non-commissioned  officer  whom  he  had  pronounced  of 
all  others  at  Rossiter  the  most  respected  and  highly  thought  of  by  the 
cavalry  garrison. 

"  Sergeant,  I'm  very  sorry  to  see  you  so  badly  mauled,"  said  Perry. 
"  How  on  earth  did  it  happen  ?" 

Gwynne  turned  his  head  painfully  until  the  one  unbandaged  eye 
could  look  about  and  see  that  none  of  the  stable-guard  were  within 
hearing,  then  back  again  and  up  into  the  symphathetic  face  of  his 
young  superior. 

"  Lieutenant,  I  must  tell  you  and  the  captain ;  and  yet  it  is  a  matter 
I  profoundly  wish  to  keep  as  secret  as  possible, — the  story  of  my  day's 
adventure,  I  mean." 

"  You  need  not  tell  me  at  all  if  you  do  not  wish  to,"  said  Perry  j 
"though  I  think  it  is  due  to  yourself  that  the  captain  should  know 
how  it  \tfas  you  were  gone  all  day  and  that  your  horse  and  you  both 
came  back  in  such  condition." 

"  I  understand,  sir,  fully,"  answered  Gwynne,  respectfully.  "  I 
shall  tell  the  captain  the  whole  story,  if  he  so  desire.  Meantime,  I 
can  only  ask  that  no  one  else  be  told.  If  the  men  in  the  troop  had  an 
inkling  of  the  true  story  there  would  be  endless  trouble;  and  so  I  have 
tried  to  account  for  it  by  saying  my  horse  and  I  had  an  ugly  fall  while 
running  a  coyote  through  the  timber.  We  did  see  a  coyote,  down  near 
the  ranch  on  the  Monce,  and  I  did  have  an  ugly  fall :  I  was  set  upon 
by  three  of  those  ranchmen  and  badly  handled." 

"Yes,  damn  them  !"  said  Perry,  excitedly  and  wrathfully.  "I've 
had  an  experience  with  them  myself  to-night,  while  we  were  searching 
for  you." 

"  So  much  the  more  reason,  sir,  why  my  mishap  should  not  be  told 
among  the  men.  The  two  affairs  combined  would  be  more  than  they 
would  stand.  There  are  enough  Irishmen  here  in  our  troop  alone 
to  go  down  and  wipe  that  ranch  out  of  existence ;  and  I  fear  trouble 
as  it  stands." 

"  Whether  there  will  be  trouble  or  not  will  depend  very  much  on 
the  future  conduct  of  the  proprietor  and  manager  down  there.  Of 
course  we  cannot  tolerate  for  an  instant  the  idea  of  their  maintaining  a 
of  ruffians  there  who  are  allowed  to  assault  officers  or  men  who 


188  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

happen  to  ride  around  that  neighborhood.  You  were  not  inside  their 
limits,  were  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant,  painfully,  "  I  was :  I  had  tied  my 
horse  outside  and  ventured  in  to  get  a  nearer  look  at  the  buildings." 

"  What  time  did  it  happen  ?" 

"  This  morning,  sir ;  not  more  than  an  hour  and  a  half  after  you 
spoke  to  me  in  the  valley." 

"Indeed  !  Then  you  must  have  lain  there  all  day  !  Why,  Gwynne, 
this  will  never  do.  I'll  go  aud  get  the  surgeon  and  have  him  look  you 
over.  You  must  have  been  brutally  mauled,  and  must  be  utterly  ex 
hausted." 

"  Don't  go,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant,  eagerly  stretching  forth  a  hand. 
"  It — it  isn't  as  you  think,  sir.  I  have  been  kindly  cared  for.  They're 
not  all  ruffians  down  there,  and  the  men  who  assaulted  me  will  be  fully 
punished.  I've  been  quite  as  well  nursed  and  fed  and  brandied  and 
bandaged  as  though  I'd  been  carried  right  to  hospital.  Indeed,  I 
don't  need  anything  but  rest.  I'll  be  all  right  in  a  day." 

"  But  I  think  Dr.  Quin  ought  to  see  you  and  satisfy  us  you  are  not 
injured." 

"  Be  satisfied,  sir.     The  doctor  has  seen  me." 

"  Why,  but  how  ? — where  ?  He  was  here  all  day,  and  only  went 
away  at  sunset.  He  joined  me  at  Dunraven  about  nine  o'clock,  and 
hadn't  returned  when  I  came  in.  Did  he  find  you  and  bring  you 
back?" 

Gwynne  hesitated  painfully  again  : 

"  The  doctor  saw  me  this  evening, — down  near  where  I  was  hurt ; 
but  I  got  back  here  without  his  help,  sir.  Lieutenant,"  said  the 
soldier,  suddenly,  "there  are  one  or  two  things  connecter!  with  this 
day's  work  that  I  cannot  tell.  Come  what  may,  I  must  not  speak  of 
them,  even  to  the  captain." 

Perry  was  silent  a  moment.     Then  he  kindly  answered, — 

"  I  do  not  think  any  one  here  will  press  you  to  tell  what  you  con 
sider  it  might  be  ungrateful  or  dishonorable  in  you  to  reveal.  I  will 
do  what  I  can  to  see  that  your  wishes  are  respected.  And  now,  if  you 
are  sure  I  can  do  nothing  for  you,  good-night,  sergeant."  And  the 
young  officer  held  out  his  hand. 

"  Good-night,  sir,"  answered  Gwynne.  He  hesitated  one  moment. 
It  was  the  first  time  since  he  entered  service,  nearly  five  years  before, 
that  an  officer  had  offered  him  his  hand.  It  was  a  new  and  strange 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  189 

sensation.  It  might  not  be  "good  discipline"  to  take  advantage  of  it, 
but  there  were  other  reasons.  Gwynne  looked  up  in  the  frank  blue 
eyes  of  his  lieutenant  and  read  something  there  that  told  a  new  story. 
Out  came  a  hand  as  slender  and  shapely  as  that  of  the  young  officer, 
and  the  two  were  silently  and  firmly  clasped. 

"  How  can  I  question  him  ?"  said  Perry  to  himself  as  he  walked 
slowly  homeward.  "  Is  there  not  something  I  am  holding  back  ? — 
something  I  cannot  speak  of?  By  Jupiter !  can  his  be  the  same 
reason  ?" 


IX. 

At  just  what  hour  the  post  surgeon  returned  to  Fort  Rossiter  that 
night  no  one  seemed  to  know.  He  was  present  at  sick-call,  and  im 
perturbable  as  ever,  on  the  following  morning,  and  the  few  officers  who 
were  at  head-quarters  after  guard-mounting  were  able  to  affirm  that  the 
colonel  had  been  courteous  as  usual  in  his  greeting  to  the  medical  officer, 
and  thaf  nothing  whatever  had  been  said  about  his  being  away  so  late 
the  previous  evening.  Captain  Stryker  came  home  .soon  after  midnight, 
had  a  brief  talk  with  his  colonel,  and  went  over  to  the  stables  to 
inquire  into  Gwynne's  condition  before  he  went  to  bed.  Parke  came 
into  Perry's  room  after  morning  stables,  and  told  him,  as  he  was 
yawning  and  stretching  in  bed,  that  the  captain  had  had  quite  a  long 
talk  with  Gwynne  that  morning,  and  that  "something  was  up," — he 
didn't  know  what.  Later  in  the  day  Perry  was  sent  for  by  Colonel 
Brainard,  and  found  the  commanding  officer  in  consultation  with 
Captain  Stryker  and  two  other  troop-commanders.  At  their  request 
he  repeated  the  story  of  his  adventure  at  Dunraven,  beginning  with 
his  instructions  to  the  men  he  left  at  the  gate,  and  ending  with  old 
Maitland's  swooning ;  and  about  an  hour  after  he  had  finished  he  saw 
the  adjutant  with  a  small  escort  ride  away  down  the  valley,  and  rightly 
conjectured  that  the  colonel  had  sent  a  letter  to  Dunraven  inquiring 
into  the  cause  of  the  assaults  on  two  members  of  his  command.  Bat 
talion  drill  kept  him  occupied  all  the  morning ;  a  garrison  court  con 
vened  at  noon  and  sat  until  skirmish  drill  began  at  three  P.M.  ;  and  so 
it  happened  that  not  until  near  parade  did  he  find  a  moment's  time  to 
himself.  He  longed  to  see  Mrs.  Lawrence  and  question  her  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  "  Dunraven  stories"  she  had  mentioned ;  for  what  had 
been  a  matter  of  indifference  to  him  then  had  suddenly  become  of  vivid 


190  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

interest.  There  were  ladies  sitting  on  the  Lawrences'  gallery,  he  could 
plainly  see,  as  the  cavalry  officers  came  tramping  in  from  afternoon 
stables,  but  he  could  not  hope  to  ask  or  hear  anything  about  a  matter  so 
near  his  heart  in  the  presence  of  so  many  sympathetic  and  interested 
listeners.  He  kept  away  towards  his  own  gate,  therefore,  until  he  saw 
that  there,  leaning  on  the  gate-post,  and  apparently  awaiting  him,  stood 
Dr.  Quin. 

Perry  would  gladly  have  avoided  the  doctor  :  the  antagonism  he 
was  beginning  to  feel  for  him  was  of  a  character  that  would  hardly 
brook  concealment.  Cordial  and  joyous  in  manner  as  he  was  to  almost 
every  man,  woman,  and  child  he  met,  it  was  all  the  more  noticeable 
that  to  the  very  few  whom  he  held  in  dislike  or  distrust  his  bearing 
was  cold  and  repellent  in  the  last  degree.  Something  told  him  the 
doctor  was  there  to  speak  to  him  about  their  chance  meeting  at  Dun- 
raven.  He  did  not  want  to  speak  to  him  at  all,  just  now.  Yet  how 
could  he  hope  to  have  these  matters  explained  without  a  meeting  and  a 
talk  ?  While  the  other  officers  strolled  over  and  stopped,  most  of  them, 
in  front  of  the  group  of  ladies  at  Lawrence's,  Perry  stalked  straight 
across  the  parade  and  the  boundary  road,  with  his  blue  eyes  fixed  on 
the  doctor's  face. 

The  latter  was  studying  him  as  he  came,  and  doubtless  read  that 
expression  of  coldness  and  distrust :  possibly  he  resented  it.  At  all 
events,  something  prompted  him  to  speak  in  a  tone  less  cordial  than  he 
had  ever  employed  towards  Perry, — "  a  youngster  whom  I  thoroughly 
approve  of,"  as  he  said  before  he  had  known  him  a  week.  Still  leaning 
on  the  gate-post,  and  resting  his  head  on  his  hand,  the  doctor  began : 

"  Mr.  Perry,  I  have  been  to  see  you  twice  to-day,  but  could  not  find 
you,  and  I  wanted  to  speak  with  you  on  a  matter  of  some  importance." 

"  You  could  have  found  me  on  drill  or  the  court,  if  anything  im 
mediate  was  needed.  I  have  been  nowhere  else,  except  to  stables,"  said 
Perry,  shortly. 

"  It  was  a  personal  matter, — a  somewhat  embarrassing  one, — and  I 
thought  best  to  see  you  alone." 

"  Well,  here  I  am,  Dr.  Quin :  drive  ahead  and  let  us  have  it." 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you  if,  while  you  were  at  the  ranch  last  night, 
you  saw  anything  of  a  large  signet-ring,  with  a  crest  and  motto  en 
graved  on  the  stone." 

"  I  did  not, — unless  you  mean  the  one  Mr.  Maitland  wore." 

"  The  very  one  !     You  noticed  that,  did  you  ?" 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  191 

"  I  noticed  he  had  something  of  the  kind  on  his  left  hand  when  he 
came  down." 

"  And  it  was  nowhere  to  be  found  after  you  went  away.  You  may 
remember  you  were  chafing  and  slapping  that  hand ;  and  I  thought 
you  might  have  accidentally  removed  it  at  that  time." 

"  The  reflection  is  not  a  pleasant  one,  Dr.  Quin,"  said  Perry,  with 
an  angry  light  in  the  blue  eyes. 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Perry :  I  put  it  awkwardly,  but  I  mean  no  re 
flection  whatever.  Miss  Maitland  mentioned  your  efforts  to  restore  the 
old  gentleman  to  consciousness,  and  together  we  searched  the  sofa  and 
the  floor  after  we  had  put  him  safely  to  bed  and  discovered  the  loss  of 
the  ring.  It  is  one  to  which  he  attaches  peculiar  value,  and  its  loss  has 
preyed  upon  him.  While  I  know  very  well  you  could  not  have  the 
ring,  I  was  asked  to  ascertain  if  you  remembered  seeing  it,  and  so  es 
tablish  the  truth  of  Mr.  Maitland's  belief  that  it  was  on  his  finger  when 
he  went  to  that  room." 

"  It  was ;  but  I  do  not  recollect  its  being  on  his  hand  after  he  was 
carried  to  the  sofa.  It  would  surely  have  attracted  my  attention  while 
chafing  it." 

"  The  parlor,  hall,  and  piazza  have  been  swept  and  searched,  I  am 
told  by  this  note,"  and  the  doctor  indicated  a  little  missive  he  held  in 
his  hand,  whereat  Perry's  face  did  not  brighten,  "  and  with  no  success. 
I  was  asked  to  inquire  of  you,  and  if  it  has  annoyed  you,  as  I  infer  by 
your  manner,  pray  let  that  be  my  apology.  Then  I  am  to  say  you  saw 
it  when  Mr.  Maitland  entered  the  room,  but  not  again  ?" 

"  Precisely ;  unless  you  choose  to  add  to  your  correspondent  that 
the  next  time  I  am  associated  with  missing  property  at  Dunraven  I 
would  prefer  to  be  questioned  direct,  and  not  through  a  third  party." 

A  quiet  smile  shone  for  an  instant  on  the  doctor's  grave  face : 

"  I  fear  that  I  have  not  accomplished  my  mission  very  diplomati 
cally,  Mr.  Perry,  and  am  sorry  to  have  vexed  you.  The  colonel  tells 
me,  by  the  way,  that  I  ought  to  say  to  you  that  the  reason  I  was  so  long 
in  reaching  your  party  last  night  was  that  I  was  detained  attending  to 
another  case, — one  of  our  own  men.  Good-evening,  sir."  And,  raising 
his  forage-cap,  the  doctor  walked  slowly  and  with  dignity  away,  leaving 
Perry  too  surprised  to  speak. 

"  The  colonel  told  him  to  tell  me  !"  was  Perry's  wondering  solilo 
quy  at  last.  "  Then  I  suppose  he  must  have  told  the  chief  some  story 
to  account  for  his  being  away."  It  was  pretty  evident  from  the  young 


192  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

fellow's  manner  as  he  entered  the  house  that  the  story  was  not  one 
which  struck  him  as  being  entitled  to  confidence  or  consideration. 

On  the  table  in  his  little  sitting-room  lay  a  dainty  note.  It  was 
not  the  first  he  had  received  under  that  superscription,  and  he  had  not 
been  slow  to  open  and  read  them.  If  anything,  the  cloud  upon  his 
forehead  seemed  to  deepen  at  sight  of  it.  He  picked  it  up,  looked 
impatiently  at  the  address,  hesitated  a  moment,  tossed  it  back  on  his 
desk,  and  went  into  the  inner  room.  He  would  not  read  it  now ;  it 
was  almost  parade-time ;  he  had  to  bathe  and  change  his  dress,  for  after 
parade  he  was  to  dine  at  the  quarters  of  an  infantry  friend,  and  Cap 
tain  and  Mrs.  Lawrence  were  to  be  of  the  party.  Already  it  was  noted 
that  when  any  of  the  few  infantry  people  at  the  post  gave  a  little  tea 
or  dinner  at  which  only  eight  or  ten  were  gathered  together,  the  Bel- 
knaps  were  not  invited  on  the  same  evening  with  Mr.  Perry,  and  vice 
versd.  When  Parke  came  in,  whistling  and  singing  and  banging  doors 
and  making  all  manner  of  uncouth  noise  in  the  exuberance  of  his  boyish 
spirits,  he  bolted  into  Perry's  domain,  as  was  his  wont,  and  began  a 
rattling  comment  on  the  events  of  the  day. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  broke  in,  suddenly,  "  we  can't  both  go  to-morrow ; 
and  I  suppose  you  want  to." 

"Go  where?" 

"  Why,  out  with  the  hounds  :  to-morrow's  the  day,  you  know." 

Perry  gave  a  whistle  of  perplexity.  The  colonel  had  promised  the 
ladies  that  there  should  be  a  big  run  this  very  week.  All  the  fleet 
hounds  of  the  cavalry  battalion  were  to  be  out,  and  all  the  officers  who 
could  be  spared  from  the  day's  duties :  a  detachment  was  to  go  over 
into  the  valley  of  a  stream  some  ten  miles  away,  pitch  tents  in  the 
shade,  and  there  set  luncheon  for  the  entire  party ;  horses  were  to  be 
provided  for  all  the  ladies  who  cared  to  go  mounted,  buggies  and  "  buck- 
boards"  were  to  convey  the  others,  and  it  was  to  be  a  gala  occasion. 
Antelope,  coyote,  or  jack -rabbit, — any  four-footed  game  the  prairie 
afforded  was  to  be  "  coursed"  in  due  state  and  ceremony ;  the  ladies 
"  in  at  the  death"  were  to  be  crowned  and  subsequently  presented  with 
trophies  of  the  chase  more  sightly  than  the  mask  or  brush  au  naturel. 
The  affair  had  been  gayly  talked  over  that  very  evening  of  the  colonel's 
dinner,  but  the  events  of  the  previous  day  and  the  perplexities  of  the 
one  just  closing  had  completely  driven  it  all  out  of  his  head. 

And  yet  he  was  engaged  to  ride  with  Mrs.  Belknap, — the  Amazon 
of  Fort  Rossiter !  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  Ned  Perry  would 


DUNEAVEN  RANCH.  193 

have  been  glad  of  an  excuse  to  get  away  from  a  gallop  with  an  accom 
plished  Equestrienne. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  had  forgotten  it  ?"  asked  Parke,  in 
amaze. 

"  Don't  blow  on  me,  there's  a  good  fellow  ;  but,  after  all  my 
'  breaks'  of  yesterday,  —  getting  an  absent  from  drill  and  into  a  row  at 
the  ranch,  —  I  declare  it  had  slipped  my  memory.  No,  you  go,  Parke  : 
I  don't  deserve  to  be  let  off  anything,  after  yesterday.  You've  been 
sticking  to  duty  like  a  brick  ever  since  you  joined,  and  Stryker  ought 
to  give  you  the  preference." 

"  But  you're  engaged  to  ride  with  Mrs.  Belknap,"  said  Parke. 

"Who  told  you  so?" 

"  I  heard  her  say  so.  Dana  asked  if  he  might  have  the  pleasure, 
just  a  while  ago,  and  she  smilingly  replied  that  it  would  have  been  de 
lightful,  but  that  you  had  asked  her  four  days  ago,  when  it  was  first 
planned." 

"So  I  had;  but  I've  been  getting  into  scrapes  ever  since,  and  I 
oughtn't  to  go.  By  Jove  !  I'll  write  her  a  note  now  and  say  I  can't 
get  off.'  It's  true  enough.  I  wouldn't  let  such  a  fellow  go  if  I  com 
manded  the  troop.  I'd  make  him  stay  in  and  attend  roll-call  a  week." 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Belknap  expects  you,"  said  Parke,  dubiously.  "  Not 
but  what  Dana  would  be  glad  to  take  your  place.  Belknap  can't  go  : 
he's  too  bulky  to  ride,  and  she'd  leave  him  miles  astern  first  run  we 
had,  sure." 

Suddenly  Perry  bethought  him  of  the  note,  and  made  a  dive  into 
the  sitting-room,  towel  in  hand  and  shirt-sleeves  rolled  to  the  elbows. 
It  read,  — 


AMI,  — 

"  You  go  to  the  Spragues'  to  dine  this  evening,  and  there  will  be 
cards,  and  you  will  not  be  able  to  get  away  until  very  late.  Will  you 
not  come  in  a  little  while  before  parade,  —  without  fail?  There  is 
something  I  greatly  want  to  see  you  about. 

"  Sincerely, 

"  F.  E.  B. 
"  Come  early  as  possible  after  stables." 

"Thunder  and  turf!"  exclaimed  Perry;  "and  there  goes  first  call 
now  !     Here,  Parke,  you're  dressed  ;  run  over  and  tell  Mrs.  Belknap 
I  17 


194  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

I  just  this  instant  read  her  note  and  I  can't  come  :  I'll  get  a  late  as  it  is." 

"How  can  I,  man?"  shouted  Parke,  as  he  fled.  "  I've  got  to  get 
into  war-paint  too.  —  Lucky  thing  for  me,"  he  added,  in  lower  tone. 
"  I  don't  want  to  be  the  one  to  tell  the  prettiest  woman  at  Rossiter 
that  her  note  that  she  sent  here  at  noon  wasn't  opened  until  first  call 
for  parade." 

Perry's  dressing  was  completed  at  racing  speed,  but  even  then  he 
was  buckling  his  sabre-belt  as  the  assembly  sounded,  and  he  had  to  go 
straight  across  to  where  his  troop  was  forming,  —  a  glittering  rank  of 
yellow  plumes,  —  and  so  could  only  give  a  hurried  sidelong  glance 
towards  Belknap's  quarters.  There  was  her  bonnie  ladyship  pacing 
up  and  down  the  veranda  ;  and  he  knew  well  he  would  have  to  account 
for  his  sins.  All  through  parade  his  thoughts  were  divided  between 
the  fair  face  he  had  seen  at  Dunraven  the  night  before  and  the  dark 
one  with  the  long,  curving  lashas  sweeping  those  soft,  peachy  cheeks 
and  half  veiling  those  wonderful,  liquid,  speaking,  side-glancing  eyes. 
He  saw  Mrs.  Bel  knap  stroll  forth  a  moment  as  though  to  join  the 
group  of  ladies  on  the  walk,  then  return  to  her  slow,  graceful,  languid 
promenade  up  and  down  her  piazza.  He  knew  that  he  must  hasten 
to  her  the  instant  the  rank  of  officers  dispersed  and  make  his  peace  if 
possible,  but  as  they  marched  to  the  front  and  saluted  the  commanding 
officer  he  signalled  that  he  had  something  to  say  to  them  all,  and, 
moving  away  to  the  edge  of  the  parade-ground,  so  that  the  troops 
might  not  be  detained  on  the  line,  he  gathered  his  officers  about  him, 
a  silent  group  under  the  little  shade-trees  that  bounded  the  road-way, 
and  took  a  letter  from  the  breast  of  his  uniform  coat. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  this  will  be  of  importance  to  some  of  you, 
and  of  interest  to  all.  It  explains  something  none  of  us  understood, 
and  contains  matter  that  I  deem  it  best  you  all  should  hear.  It  is  a 
letter  from  the  manager  of  Dunraven  Ranch.  —  Mr.  Adjutant,  you 
read  it." 

And,  clearing  his  throat,  Mr.  Farnham  began  : 


RANCH, 
"  Friday. 
"  COLONEL  BRAINARD,  —  th  Cavalry,  Fort  Rossiter  : 

"  DEAR  SIR,  —  Mr.  Maitland  is  confined  to  his  bed,  and  too  ill  to 
personally  reply  to  your  letter  of  this  morning,  which  was  duly  received 
at  the  hands  of  your  adjutant.  He  directs  me  to  write  as  follows  :  that, 


DUNE  A  YEN  RANCH.  195 

while  he  regrets  the  boisterous  conduct  of  some  of  his  employees  la.st 
evening  and  their  assault  on  Mr.  Perry,  he  considers  that  in  view  of 
the  results — a  broken  head  on  the  part  of  one  of  our  people  and  no 
apparent  damage  to  Mr.  Perry — the  matter  should  not  be  pressed.  As 
to  the  other  assault  alluded  to,  he  has  no  knowledge  of  it  whatever, 
and  can  find  no  man  who  has. 

"  The  distinct  understanding  between  Mr.  Maitland  and  the  former 
commanding  officer  at  Fort  Rossiter  was  that  none  of  the  garrison 
should  ever  pass  within  our  lines ;  and  we  agreed  on  the  other  hand 
that  none  of  our  people  should  ever  trespass  on  the  reservation.  Mr. 
Maitland  holds  that  it  was  the  duty  of  Colonel  Brainard's  predecessor 
to  acquaint  him  with  the  terms  of  this  agreement,  and  the  residents  at 
Dunraven  had  no  means  of  knowing  that  the  invaders  of  last  evening 
were  not  the  very  men  whom  the  proper  authorities  had  pledged  them 
selves  to  restrain  from  such  aggression. 

"  Mr.  Maitland  begs  that  Colonel  Brainard  will  in  future  ratify  and 
conform  with  the  agreement  formally  entered  into  by  his  predecessor. 

"  Eespectfully, 

"  P.  EWEN,  Manager." 

There  was  a  moment  of  puzzled  silence.  The  colonel  looked  quiz 
zically  around  upon  the  circle  of  bronzed  and  soldierly  faces  under  the 
black  helmets.  Captain  Stryker's  lips  were  twitching  with  amusement 
behind  their  black  fringe  of  beard.  No  one  spoke  at  first ;  but  pres 
ently  a  deep-voiced  troop-commander  gave  vent  to  his  emotions  : 

"  What  a  bombastic  old  crank  !     Who  is  he?" 

"  An  Englishman, — the  owner  of  the  biggest  ranch  in  this  part  of 
Texas,"  answered  the  colonel.  "  Captain  Belknap,  Captain  Lawrence, 
have  you  any  knowledge  of  the  agreement  of  which  he  speaks  ?" 

"  Nothing  beyond  the  vague  talk  we  heard.  Dr.  Quin  would  be 
more  apt  to  know  what  Colonel  Stratton  agreed  to  than  we  would," 
answered  Belknap. 

"  I  will  ask  the  doctor  this  evening.  Meantime,  knowing  no  reason 
why  such  a  policy  of  non-intercourse  should  be  observed,  I  shall  not 
recognize  it.  What  is  more,  while  you  will  caution  your  men  to  respect 
Dunraven  bounds  as  they  would  other  private  property,  let  them  show 
no  hostility  to  the  ranch- people  who  may  have  occasion  to  visit  us.  The 
man  who  brought  this  note  tells  me  he  was  threatened  and  abused  by 
some  cavalrymen  near  the  stables.  Mr.  Maitland  professes  to  have  no 


196  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

knowledge  of  another  assault;  but  we  have  evidence  that  Sergeant 
Gwynne  was  beaten  by  three  fellows  on  the  Dunraven  grounds  yester 
day.  That  matter  is  yet  to  be  settled.  Now  one  thing  more :  troop 
and  company  commanders  will  closely  watch  their  men  the  next  few 
nights, — keep  a  sharp  lookout  on  the  quarters  until  midnight,  to  see 
that  no  men  slip  away ;  after  midnight  the  guard  must  attend  to  it. 
There  is  an  element  in  the  ranks  that  would  be  only  too  glad  to  go 
down  to  Dunraven  some  night  and  have  satisfaction  on  their  own  ac 
count  for  yesterday's  affairs.  This  must  not  be  permitted.  See  to  it, 
gentlemen.  That  is  all  for  the  present. — Mr.  Perry,  will  you  come 
with  me  a  moment?" 

Perry  went.      Mrs.   Belknap  saw  him  go,  and   believed  herself 
slighted. 


The  hounds  were  out,  and  all  Fort  Rossiter  "  society"  was  with 
them.  The  day  was  faultless, — neither  too  warm  nor  too  cloudy ;  a 
brisk  westerly  breeze  sent  the  cloud-shadows  sailing  steadily  across  the 
broad  prairie  sea  and  keeping  the  veils  and  skirts  of  the  Amazons  of 
the  party  a-flutter.  Three  there  were  of  these,  the  rest  of  the  sister 
hood  preferring  to  follow  the  hunt  by  buggy  or  buck-board,  though 
frankly  expressing  their  envy  of  the  fortunate  riders.  Mounted  on 
her  own  spirited  little  bay,  admirably  fitted  as  to  habit,  and  sitting 
squarely  and  well,  Mrs.  Belknap  would  have  been  the  centre  of  obser 
vation  of  all  the  cavalry  officers  even  had  she  not  been,  as  she  incon- 
testably  was,  the  beauty  of  the  garrison.  The  colonel  had  offered  Mrs. 
Lawrence  one  of  his  own  horses,  and  therefore  was  accorded  the  right 
of  being  her  escort.  Mrs.  Sprague  was  similarly  indebted  for  her 
"mount"  to  Captain  Stryker;  and  a  very  bright  and  beaming  little 
body  she  was  as  she  rode  over  the  springy  turf  at  the  side  of  the  dark- 
haired  troop-leader.  She  dearly  loved  fresh  air,  sunshine,  space,  health 
ful  exercise  of  every  kind,  was  the  champion  at  tennis  and  an  indomi 
table  walker,  but  a  ride  was  something  better  than  all,  and  of  course 
the  rarest  pleasure.  The  wife  of  a  faithful  and  honest  old  subaltern 
who  had  reaped  his  four  "  fogies"  for  twenty  years'  service  and  was 
still  looking  forward  to  his  captaincy,  her  opportunities  for  riding  had 
been  limited  to  those  occasions  when  some  thoughtful  cavalryman  would 
send  his  horse  around  with  his  compliments  and  an  invitation  to  take 
a  canter.  The  Eleventh  were  very  busy  during  their  stay  at  Rossiter, 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  197 

or  very  chary  of  their  horseflesh.  They  never  rode,  said  the  infantry- 
people,  in  speaking  of  them  to  their  successors,  while  the  — th  were 
not  only  themselves  in  saddle  hours  each  day,  but  they  were  constantly 
sending  horses  to  the  ladies ;  and — wonder  of  wonders  ! — all  the  in 
fantry  officers  were  invited  to  join  in  the  hunt,  and  such  as  could  go 
were  provided  with  excellent  mounts.  And  so  it  happened  that  a  large 
and  merry  party  had  taken  the  field  :  the  colonel  with  a  dozen  of  his 
officers, — cavalry  and  infantry, — the  ladies,  the  sergeant  in  charge  of 
the  hounds,  with  his  two  or  three  assistants,  and  the  brace  of  orderlies, 
made  a  "  field"  that  covered  a  goodly  front  as  in  dispersed  order,  chat 
ting  and  laughing,  they  swept  out  eastward  from  the  post,  following  in 
the  wake  of  the  master  of  the  hounds  and  his  long,  lithe,  fleet-lira  bed 
coursers  themselves.  Beautiful  creatures  were  these  hounds  of  the 
— th, — many  of  them  black  as  jet,  others  a  slaty  blue,  others  a 
quakerish  drab,  but  all  with  huge  rounded  chests,  powerful  shoulders 
and  haunches,  and  wonderful  limbs  for  speed.  There  were  nearly  two 
dozen  of  them,  springily  trotting  along  behind  their  huntsman,  with 
lolling  tongues  and  drooping  head  and  tail.  Yet  eyes  and  ears  were 
eager  and  alert,  watching,  waiting  for  the  signal  from  anywhere  along 
the  extended  front  that  should  start  them  in  a  race  that  would  leave  the 
very  gale  behind.  They  are  the  coursers,  the  runners,  the  aristocrats 
of  the  chase,  disdainful  of  the  work  being  done  by  their  humbler 
kindred, — the  canine  skirmishers  who  are  bounding,  bustling,  scurry 
ing,  sniffing,  scampering  everywhere  over  the  prairie  to  their  front, — 
yet  keenly  observant  of  the  results.  All  manner  of  dog — even  volun 
teer  whelp  from  the  Cheyenne  camp — is  to  be  seen  along  that  outer 
line,- — spaniels,  a  lordly  Newfoundland,  all  varieties  of  terrier  and 
"curs  of  low  degree,"  all,  even  an  occasional  bird-dog,  scouting  the 
prairie  in  desperate  eagerness  to  snap  and  seize  a  rabbit  or  throttle  a 
coyote,  for  down  in  their  jealous  hearts  they  well  know  that,  once 
started,  the  quarry  leaps  for  the  far  horizon,  vanishes  from  their  view 
like  the  "  Split-the-Wind"  of  tradition,  and  leaves  them,  despite  heroic 
effort,  far,  far  behind,  while  the  lithe-limbed  greyhounds  and  the  racers 
of  the  garrison  horses  alone  can  keep  in  sight  of  the  chase. 

"  Hard  lines  on  Perry,  isn't  it?"  said  Mr.  Graham,  as  he  trotted  up 
beside  Mrs.  Belknap  and  took  his  place  for  the  moment  with  her  bc\ 
of  cavaliers.     "  First  time  he  ever  missed  a  hunt,  I  reckon." 

"He  needn't  have  missed  this  one,"  said  Parke.    "It  was  my  week 

and  I  told  him  to  go ;  and  Captain  Stryker  said  so.  too ;  but " 

17* 


198  DUNEAVEN  RANCH. 

Here  Mr.  Parke  broke  off  suddenly  and  looked  in  mild  wonder~ 
ment  in  Dana's  face,  for  that  young  gentleman  had  managed,  unseen  by 
Mrs.  Belknap,  to  swing  free  his  right  foot  and  give  the  speaker's  left  a 
vehement  kick.  Too  late,  however.  Mrs.  Belknap  had  heard  it. 

"  Are  you  cavalrymen  all  so  little  to  be  trusted  ?"  she  asked,  with 
a  brilliant  smile  upon  her  flushing  face.  Exercise  and  excitement  had 
lent  unusual  sparkle  to  her  eyes  and  color  to  her  cheeks — "  she  is  posi 
tively  beautiful  to-day,"  as  Mrs.  Lawrence  confessed  to  the  colonel  at 
the  moment. 

"  I  had  a  note  from  Mr.  Perry  this  morning  saying  he  was  griev 
ously  disappointed,  but  that  some  troop-duty  had  been  assigned  to  him 
which  could  not  be  transferred  and  he  must  stay  and  finish  it." 

"  What  he  said  is  true,  Mrs.  Belknap,"  promptly  asseverated  Mr. 
Dana.  "  The  papers  have  all  to  be  in  readiness  for  muster  on  Monday, 
and  the  saddle-kits  put  in  shape  for  inspection." 

"  Only  in  Captain  Stryker's  troop  ?"  softly  inquired  the  lady,  with 
eyelids  rising  incredulously. 

"No,  of  course  not.  One  officer  is  back  at  the  post  from  each 
troop.  It  happened  to  fall  on  Perry  in  his." 

"  I  fancy  I  should  prefer  serving  in  some  older  captain's  troop  if  I 
were  Mr.  Perry.  It  seems  that  while  your  other  captains  stay  home 
and  look  after  their  companies,  Captain  Stryker  has  a  subaltern  attend 
to  his  while  he  comes  a-hunting." 

"  On  the  other  hand,  we  fellows  have  a  dozen  things  to  do  in  our 
troops  that  Captain  Stryker  does  himself  in  his.  It's  as  broad  as  it's 
long,  Mrs.  Belknap,"  said  Dana.  He  did  not  fancy  her  criticising  the 
methods  of  his  cavalry  associates,  and  was  possibly  a  little  piqued  at 
the  decided  annoyance  she  showed  at  Perry's  failure  to  attend.  Mean 
time,  Stryker,  all  unconscious  of  her  censure,  was  chatting  laughingly 
with  Mrs.  Sprague  and  exchanging  shots  with  the  colonel  and  Mrs. 
Lawrence.  The  four  were  getting  on  admirably  together,  and  seemed 
too  much  absorbed  in  their  own  fun  to  note  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Belknap 
and  her  knot  of  four  or  five  satellites  had  been  gradually  edging  away 
towards  the  right,  and  that  the  rest  of  the  hunt  was  becoming  widely 
scattered. 

"  It  is  time  we  stirred  up  a  jack-rabbit  at  least,"  said  the  colonel. 
"  Suppose  we  veer  over  towards  the  northeast  a  little.  Whatever  we 
do,  we  want  no  chase  down  there  towards  Dunraven:  those  wire  fence- 
would  spoil  it  all." 


DUNE  A  YEN  RANGE.  199 

"  I  wonder  if  those  people  never  hunt  ?"  said  Mr.  Farnham,  who 
had  joined  the  quartette :  he  always  kept  close  to  his  colonel,  as  be 
fitted  an  aspirant  for  the  adjutancy.  "  Englishmen  are  generally  game 
for  all  manner  of  sport." 

"  I  can  see  horsemen  out  there  on  the  prairie  to  the  east  of  the 
ranch,"  said  Stryker,  whose  eyes  were  keen,  "  and  I  could  have  sworn 
a  moment  ago  that  I  saw  a  horsewoman." 

"  Nonsense,  Captain  Stryker  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Lawrence,  yet  with 
quick  glance  at  Mrs.  Sprague.  "  What  could  you  have  taken  for  a 
'  lady  on  a  horseback'?  Do  you  suppose  there  could  be  ladies  at  Dun- 
raven  and  we  not  know  it  ?" 

"  Hardly  possible,"  answered  the  captain ;  "  and  therefore  I  doubted 
the  evidence  of  my  senses.  Yet  something  very  like  a  lady  followed 
by  a  groom  rode  down  the  slope  into  the  valley  about  ten  minutes  ago. 
She  is  out  of  sight  in  the  timber  now.  If  Perry  were  only  with  us 
I'd  send  him  off  there  to  see." 

"  Yes,  we  miss  Perry  on  our  hunts,"  said  the  colonel  to  his  lady 
friends.  "  He  is  one  of  our  best  riders  and  most  enthusiastic  sports 
men.  He  idll  be  out,  will  he  not,  Stryker?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  There  is  really  no  necessity  for  his  staying  in,  and  I  so 
told  him ;  but  he  felt  that  he  ought  to,  at  least  until  certain  work  was 
finished.  Then  he  said  he  could  ride  eastward  and  join  us.  Hurrah  ! 
there  they  go !" 

Far  out  to  the  front,  straight  to  the  east,  "  a  gray  streak  with  a 
white  tip  to  it"  went  shooting  into  space  as  though  launched  from  some 
invisible  bow  drawn  by  giant  power.  A  big  jack-rabbit,  all  legs  and 
ears,  had  listened  quivering  and  trembling  to  the  sounds  of  the  ap 
proaching  hunt,  until  an  enterprising  terrier,  foremost  skirmisher  of 
the  line,  fairly  tumbled  over  him  as  he  crouched  behind  a  little  bunch 
of  weeds  :  then  with  one  mighty  leap  and  the  accompaniment  of  a  wild 
yelp  from  his  discoverer  he  sprang  forth  into  a  race  for  his  precious 
life.  "  Hoy !  hoy !"  yells  the  sergeant  as  he  sights  the  quarry. 
"  Hurrah  !"  shout  the  nearest  huntsmen,  and,  with  one  simultaneous 
impulse,  skirmishing  curs,  stealthy,  springing  hounds,  eager  steeds,  and 
jubilant  riders, — men  and  women, — away  goes  the  entire  field  sweep 
ing  in  pursuit.  At  first  all  is  one  mad  rush  until  it  is  certain  that  the 
rabbit  is  a  veteran  who  understands  well  the  maxim  that  "a  stern-chase 
is  a  long  chase"  all  the  world  over.  Let  him  keep  it  well  in  mind,  fix 
his  eyes  on  that  one  distant,  shadowy  butte  on  the  eastern  horizon,  and 


200  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

bear  away  for  that,  straight  as  the  flight  of  laden  honey-bee,  and  his 
chance  for  life  is  fair :  he  has  fifty  yards  the  start  of  the  nearest  hound. 
Let  him  swerve  or  hesitate,  and,  like  the  original  of  the  famous  com 
parison,  he  is  lost.  The  prairie  is  level  as  a  floor,  the  turf  firm  and 
springy :  not  a  prairie-dog  has  mined  the  sod  or  digged  a  pit  for  the 
unwary.  "  Magnificent  ground ! — couldn't  have  better  !"  shouts  the 
colonel  to  Mrs.  Lawrence,  who  is  somewhat  nervously  tugging  at  her 
reins  and  leaning  back  in  the  saddle.  "  Let  him  go.  There  isn't  a 
possibility  of  a  stumble.  Look  at  Mrs.  Belknap  !"  he  adds.  He  would 
not  do  so  ordinarily,  but  he  and  his  fair  partner  are  being  left  hopelessly 
behind  in  the  race,  and,  though  his  big  charger  rarely  lands  him  among 
the  foremost  and  the  colonel  does  not  attempt  to  vie  with  the  light 
riders  among  the  youngsters,  he  cannot  bear  "  dragging."  Mrs.  Law 
rence  gives  one  glance  in  the  indicated  direction,  sees  Mrs.  Belknap 
skimming  like  a  bird  across  the  grassy  level,  riding  from  the  right 
front  diagonally  towards  the  frantic  chase.  Gentle  as  she  is  and  un- 
envious  of  her  rival's  superiority  in  some  respects,  she  won't  be  thought 
a  coward.  The  color  deepens  on  her  cheek,  her  soft  eyes  flash,  she 
bites  her  pretty  red  lips,  and,  to  Lawrence's  amaze,  her  riding-whip 
comes  viciously  down  upon  her  courser's  flank  and  her  little  hands  give 
rein.  Away  she  flies,  out  to  the  front,  leaving  her  lord  and  master  and 
his  friend,  her  escort  the  colonel,  thundering  bulkily  in  her  track,  but 
losing  ground  with  every  stride.  Delighted  to  have  so  light  a  rider, 
the  colonel's  second  horse  makes  play  for  the  very  leaders.  Here,  close 
behind  the  master  of  the  hounds,  all  eyes  fixed  on  that  bounding  tuft 
of  gray  and  white  a  few  score  yards  ahead,  bending  over  their  horses' 
necks  and  keeping  just  enough  pressure  on  the  bit  to  prevent  over 
riding  the  huntsman,  ride  Parke  and  Graham,  two  "  light  weights," 
who  have  coursed  many  a  mile  of  prairie.  Just  behind  them,  a  little 
to  their  right,  rides  Mrs.  Belknap,  her  veil  fluttering  straight  out 
behind,  her  glorious  eyes  flashing,  her  dark  skin  flushed  with  triumph 
and  the  exhilaration  of  the  dashing  pace,  her  little  hands  wound  about 
in  the  reins  she  holds  so  firmly.  Splendidly  she  sits  her  fleet  racer, 
and  Dana  has  to  urge  and  spur  his  clumsier  troop-horse  to  keep  in  close 
attendance.  These  four  are  well  in  advance  of  all  the  others.  Back 
of  them,  gallantly  urging  on  her  sturdy  sorrel,  comes  Mrs.  Sprague, 
with  Stryker  riding  warily  alongside  and  watching  her  "going"  before 
he  will  satisfy  himself  that  it  is  safe  to  trust  her  to  her  own  guiding. 
Level  as  the  prairie  is  here,  he  knows  that  a  mile  or  so  ahead  there 


DUNEAVEN  RANCH.  201 

are  "  breaks"  leading  down  into  the  valley  of  one  of  the  innumerable 
tributaries  of  the  Washita.  Then  the  story  may  be  different.  He 
looks  up  in  surprise  at  the  thunder  of  hoofs  close  alongside,  and  Mrs. 
Lawrence,  with  excitement  in  her  eyes,  overtakes,  then  passes  them  on 
her  way  to  the  front.  "  See !"  he  points  to  his  partner, — "  see  that 
dark  shadow  across  the  prairie  out  there.  We  cannot  ride  at  this  pace 
when  we  pass  that  hollow  :  the  breaks  set  in  still  farther."  He  glances 
over  his  shoulder  and  signals  to  the  nearest  officer  to  follow  Mrs. 
Lawrence  and  look  out  for  her,  and  the  gallant  does  his  best,  but  all 
are  at  top  speed ;  the  colonel  and  the  heavy  weights — infantry  and 
cavalry — are  beginning  to  lose  ground,  and  still  that  gray  "puff-ball" 
far  to  the  front  seems  inch  by  inch  to  be  slipping  away  from  his  pur 
suers  ;  still  the  long,  lean  greyhounds,  looking  almost  flat  against  the 
sward  in  their  wonderful  strides,  speed  on  in  relentless  chase,  eager 
muzzles  outstretched,  eager  eyes  glaring  on  the  bounding  quarry,  gleam 
ing  muscles  working  in  the  sunshine  like  the  steel  rods  of  the  drivers 
of  the  "  lightning  express."  A  dozen  of  them  are  bunched  in  the 
track  of  the  chase ;  others  are  farther  out  to  right  and  left.  Not  an 
inch  do  the  pursuers  seem  to  have  gained :  straight  as  an  arrow  has 
been  the  flight  so  far,  but  now  the  "  breaks"  are  just  ahead,  little  ravines 
cut  in  here  and  there  across  the  level.  Will  he  keep  his  determined 
course,  up  hill  and  down,  straight  away  to  the  east,  or  will  he  lose  heart, 
tack,  veer,  double  and  twist?  If  he  swerve  he  is  a  lost  rabbit ! 

Far  to  the  rear,  yelping,  panting,  distracted  by  this  time,  the  terriers 
and  mongrels,  the  original  leaders,  have  fallen.  The  field,  too,  is  strung 
out  nearly  a  mile  deep  at  the  end  of  the  first  six  minutes'  run,  for  some 
of  the  laggards  have  given  up  and  are  disposed  to  wait  for  the  coming 
of  the  buggies  and  buck-boards.  Here  at  the  front  all  is  tense  excite 
ment.  All  eyes  are  on  the  rabbit,  for  now  or  never  will  the  crisis  come. 
The  horses  are  breathing  heavily,  but  with  no  thought  of  slackening 
speed.  "  Watch  him  now  as  he  sights  that  arroyo  /"  shouts  Graham 
to  Parke,  for  far  out  to  the  right  front  a  ravine  bursts  off  to  the  south 
east,  and  one  of  its  shallow  contributors  stretches  obliquely  across  the 
rabbit's  frenzied  vision.  "  Veer  that  way ;  he'll  take  it,  sure  !"  shouts 
the  huntsman ;  and,  sure  enough,  no  sooner  does  he  reach  it  than  the 
gray  victim  darts  down  the  winding  shelter,  as  though  hopeful  that  his 
sudden  twist  would  throw  his  pursuers  off  the  sight ;  scent  the  grey 
hound  has  none.  The  move  is  disastrous ;  "  Hi !"  shout  the  leading 
riders,  waving  the  pursuit  to  the  right  front,  and,  obedient  to  signal, 
1* 


202  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

the  foremost  hounds  sweep  in  long  curve  into  the  coulfa,  striking  it 
many  a  yard  farther  down  than  where  the  harried  chase  first  dived  into 
its  treacherous  shadows.  And  now  those  hounds  who  were  out  on  the 
right  flank  are  up  in  line  with  the  very  leaders,  and  bounding  along  the 
level  at  the  side  of  the  ravine,  yet  keeping  wary  eye  upon  the  chase. 
So,  too,  the  horsemen.  Making  a  deep  curve  in  the  ravine  five  hun 
dred  yards  ahead,  and  confident  that  Bunny  will  blindly  rush  along  his 
winding  track,  they  strike  out  across  the  prairie,  gaining  twenty  horse- 
lengths  by  the  move ;  and  now,  with  two  or  three  of  the  oldest  hounds, 
Parke,  Dana,  and  Mrs.  Belknap  are  darting  on  abreast  of  the  chase. 
"  Keep  out  there  to  the  left,  some  of  you  !"  shouts  Dana.  "  He'll  spring 
up  the  other  side  quick  as  he  sees  us.  Dr've  him  back."  And,  obedient 
to  the  signal  of  his  waving  hand,  two  of  the  leading  troopers  breast 
the  slopes  to  the  east,  calling  half  a  dozen  hounds  with  them.  Darting 
around  a  bend,  Bunny's  agonized  eyes  catch  sight  of  the  hounds  and 
horses  on  the  right  bank,  and  like  a  flash  he  whirls,  scampers  up  the 
opposite  slope,  and  shoots  out  on  the  prairie  again  just  in  time  to  meet 
the  hounds  and  troopers  who  have  anticipated  the  move.  Now  he  is 
wild  and  demoralized.  Once  more  he  dives  into  the  ravine  and  sends 
the  dust  flying  into  the  very  faces  of  his  pursuers,  for  now  the  leading 
hounds  are  so  close  that  the  foremost  jaws  are  snapping  the  air  at  his 
every  bound.  A  quick  turn  to  the  right  and  up  the  slope  throws  these 
leaders  far — too  far — beyond ;  they  sweep  around  in  long  curve ;  but, 
though  he  has  thrown  them  off,  the  hunted,  senseless,  helpless  wretch 
has  forgotten  the  trailers  to  the  rear ;  they  spring  across  the  angle  he 
has  made,  and  are  close  as  the  original  pursuers,  and  much  the  fresher. 
Wildly,  madly  now  he  twists  and  turns,  first  up  one  bank,  then  the 
other.  Far  to  the  rear  the  coming  riders  see  the  signs  of  his  breaking 
down,  mark  the  scurrying  to  and  fro  of  horse  and  hound.  "  Come 
on  !"  they  shout.  "  He's  gone  now,  and  we  can  be  in  at  the  death  !" 
Mrs.  Lawrence  on  one  side  of  the  ravine  is  as  far  to  the  front  as  Mrs. 
Belknap  on  the  other.  One  of  them  must  lose  the  brush :  he  cannot 
die  on  both  sides  at  once.  The  dark  beauty  has  had  more  than  one 
rasping  disappointment  in  the  last  two  days :  it  would  be  intolerable 
now  that,  after  all,  Mrs.  Lawrence,  and  not  she,  should  prove  the 
victor.  Bunny  makes  one  frantic  rush  up  the  slope  to  the  right,  and, 
with  half  a  dozen  hounds  at  his  very  heels,  spins  in  front  of  her  eyes, 
catches  sight  of  two  fresh  antagonists  confronting  him,  whirls  suddenly 
about  to  the  right,  and  almost  dives  under  her  horse's  heaving  barrel  as 


DUN  RAVEN  RANCH.  203 

he  once  more  plunges  into  the  ravine,  down  the  rugged  slope,  up  the 
gentle  ascent  to  the  other  side.  There  half  a  dozen  long,  lean  muzzles 
gleam  close  behind  him ;  he  falters,  wavers ;  a  sharp  nose  is  thrust 
underneath  him  as  he  runs,  a  quick  toss  sends  him  kicking,  struggling 
into  air,  and  in  another  instant,  with  piteous  but  ineffectual  squeak  and 
pleading,  he  is  the  centre  of  a  tumbling,  snapping,  fang-gnashing 
group  of  hounds,  and  his  little  life  is  torn  out  almost  before  Graham 
can  leap  from  his  saddle,  beat  them  back  with  the  visor  of  his  cap,  then, 
seizing  the  still  quivering  body  by  the  legs  that  would  have  saved  could 
that  empty  head  only  have  directed,  holds  poor  Bunny  aloft  in  front  of 
Mrs.  Lawrence's  snorting  steed  and  proclaims  her  "Queen  of  the  Chase." 
And  this,  too,  has  Mrs.  Belknap  to  see  and  strive  to  smile ;  while 
down  in  her  heart  she  knows  that  it  could  not  so  have  happened  had 
Perry  come. 

XI. 

Riding  eastward  just  before  noon,  somewhat  comforted  in  conscience 
because  of  his  self-denial  of  the  morning,  Ned  Perry  scanned  the 
distant  prairie  in  search  of  the  hunt.  It  was  nearly  luncheon-time, 
and  he  expected  to  find  the  party  making  its  way  to  the  little  stream 
whither  the  baskets,  boxes,  and  hampers  had  been  despatched  by 
wagon  some  hours  before ;  but  when  he  sighted  the  quartermaster 
driving  homeward  in  his  buggy  he  learned  from  that  bulky  veteran 
that  rabbit  after  rabbit  had  been  run,  and  that  the  whole  party  had 
finally  decided  to  give  dogs  and  horses  a  cool  drink  down  in  the  Monee 
valley  before  starting  northward  across  the  prairie.  "  They  must  be 
getting  down  into  the  valley  two  or  three  miles  east  of  the  ranch  just 
about  now,  and  will  go  due  north  from  there,  unless  they  stir  up  more 
game  along  the  Monee.  If  I  were  you,"  said  the  quartermaster,  "  I'd 
ride  over  to  the  lunch-stand.  You  won't  get  there  much  before  the 
crowd." 

Perry  thanked  him  for  the  information,  but,  so  far  from  accepting 
his  advice,  the  younger  officer  turned  his  horse's  head  in  the  direction 
of  Dunraven,  and  was  speedily  riding  thither  with  an  alacrity  that  he 
himself  could  hardly  explain. 

In  his  brief  talk  with  the  colonel  after  parade  on  the  previous 
evening  Perry  had  told  him  what  he  could  of  the  characteristics  of 
Messrs.  Maitland  and  Ewen.  The  odd  letter  which  had  been  sent  by 


204  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

them  had  given  th<;  commanding  officer  cause  for  much  thought,  and 
he  was  desirous,  evidently,  of  gathering  from  Perry's  observations  as 
complete  an  idea  as  was  possible  of  their  life  and  surroundings.  And 
still  Perry  had  found  it  impossible  to  volunteer  any  description  of 
Miss  Maitland;  he  could  not  bear  to  speak  of  her  until  —  until  he 
knew  more  of  the  doctor's  purpose  in  his  visits  to  the  ranch.  He  had 
been  detained  by  his  commander  just  long  enough  to  make  it  necessary 
for  him  to  go  direct  to  the  Spragues'  without  leaving  his  helmet  and 
sabre  at  home.  They  were  waiting  dinner  for  him  as  it  was,  but  Mrs. 
Belknap  took  no  note  of  that  circumstance:  what  she  saw  was  that  he 
had  avoided  even  passing  within  hail  of  her  piazza  both  before  and 
after  parade. 

Now,  though  conscious  of  no  intention  of  avoidance,  Perry  rode 
forth  to  the  meeting  of  this  day  with  some  little  misgiving.  In  the 
first  place,  he  knew  that  he  must  strive  to  make  his  peace  with  this 
slighted  lady ;  and  yet,  in  view  of  all  he  had  seen  and  heard  in  the 
past  forty-eight  hours,  how  utterly  dwarfed  had  that  affair — his  laugh 
ing  flirtation  with  Mrs.  Belknap — become !  Had  any  one  told  him 
his  attentions  to  her  and  her  marked  preference  for  his  society  were 
matters  that  people  were  beginning  to  talk  of, — some  with  sly  enjoy 
ment,  others  with  genuine  regret, — he  would  have  been  grateful  for 
the  information,  instead  of  resentful,  as,  with  most  men,  would  be  the 
case  ninety-nine  times  out  of  a  hundred.  But  he  knew  nothing  of  this, 
and  had  too  little  experience  to  suspect  the  comments  in  circulation. 
She  was  most  interesting — up  to  the  day  before  yesterday ;  he  loved 
to  ride  or  dance  with  her ;  he  enjoyed  a  chat  with  her  more  than  he 
could  tell.  A  most  sympathetic  and  attentive  listener  was  Mrs.  Bel 
knap,  and  her  voice  was  low  and  sweet  and  full  of  subtly  caressing  tones. 
She  had  made  him  talk  to  her  by  the  hour  of  his  home,  his  hopes  and 
ambitions,  his  profession  and  his  prospects,  and  had  held  him  in  a 
silken  bondage  that  he  had  no  desire  to  escape. 

And  yet,  as  he  rode  out  on  the  breezy  plain  this  brilliant  day,  he 
found  all  thought  of  her  distasteful,  and  his  eyes,  far  from  searching 
for  the  nutter  of  her  trim  habit  in  the  distant  riding-party,  would  go 
a-roaming  over  the  intervening  shades  and  shallows  down  in  the  Monee 
valley  and  seek  the  bare,  brown  walls  of  Dunraven  far  across  the 
stream.  It  was  odd  indeed  that  he  should  have  sought  this,  the  longest 
way  round,  on  his  ride  in  quest  of  his  companions  from  the  fort. 

Once  again  he  looked  at  the  isolated  clump  of  buildings  from  his 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  205 

post  of  observation  on  the  bluff;  once  again  he  saw  across  the  stream 
and  through  the  trees  the  barbed  barrier  that  had  caused  both  him  and 
his  men  such  laceration  of  flesh  and  temper ;  once  again  he  saw  the 
.shallow  valley  winding  away  to  the  southeast,  decked  with  its  scrubby 
fringe- work  of  cotton  wood  and  willow;  but  this  time,  three  miles  away 
its  accustomed  solitude  was  broken  by  groups  of  riders  and  darting 
black  specks  of  dogs,  all  moving  northward  once  more  and  already 
breasting  the  slopes.  He  should  have  turned  away  eastward  and 
ridden  across  country  to  join  them,  but  down  here  in  the  valley,  only 
a  short  distance  away,  absorbed  in  watching  the  hunting-party,  sat 
Mr.  Ewen  on  a  pawing  and  excited  bay.  Whatever  coolness  his  rider 
might  feel  at  this  discovery,  it  was  not  shared  by  Nolan  :  he  pricked 
up  his  ears  and  hailed  his  fellow-quadruped  with  cordial  and  unaffected 
pleasure,  a  neigh  that  the  English-bred  horse  was  so  utterly  uninsular 
as  to  whirl  about  and  answer  with  corresponding  warmth.  Ewen 
caught  at  his  heavy  Derby  and  jerked  it  off  his  bullet  head  with  an 
air  of  mingled  embarrassment  and  civility,  replacing  it  with  similarly 
spasmodic  haste.  Perry  coolly,  but  with  a  certain  easy  grace,  raised  his 
forage-'cap  in  response  to  the  salutation,  and  then,  seeing  the  manager 
still  looking  at  him  as  though  he  wanted  to  say  something  and  did  not 
know  how  to  begin,  gave  Nolan  his  head  and  rode  down  to  short  hail- 
ing-distance. 

"  We  meet  on  neutral  ground  out  here,  Mr.  Ewen.  I  suppose  your 
exclusive  employer  over  yonder  can  hardly  prohibit  your  answering 
civil  inquiries  after  his  health  ?"  And,  though  he  meant  to  be  distant, 
Perry  found  himself  smiling  at  the  oddity  of  the  situation. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  was  just  thinking  about  you,"  answered  Ewen, 
"and  wondering  whether  you  were  with  that  party  down  yonder? 
The  old  gentleman  is  better,  thanks.  He  had  two  pretty  bad  nights, 
but  is  coming  around  slowly." 

"  And  Miss  Maitland, — how  is  she?" 

"  Rather  seedy.  She  has  had  a  good  deal  of  care  and  vexation  of 
Jate,  I  fancy,  and  this  is  no  place  for  a  young  girl,  anyhow." 

"  Well,  you  have  some  appreciation  of  the  true  character  of  Dun- 
raven  as  a  residence,  after  all !"  answered  Perry.  "  Now,  if  you  can 
give  me  any  good  reason  why  she  should  live  in  this  utterly  out-of-the- 
way  place,  you  will  lift  a  weight  from  my  mind." 

"  Oh,  they  don't  live  here,  you  know,"  spoke  Ewen,  hurriedly. 
"She  comes  here  only  when  her  father  does.  It  is  her  own  doing. 

18 


206  DUNE  A  YEN  RANCH. 

She  goes  with  him  everywhere,  and  will  not  leave  him.  She's  all  he 
has,  don't  you  know  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it.  You  Dunraven  people  seem 
averse  to  any  expression  of  interest  or  courtesy  from  your  fellow-men, 
but  I'm  free  to  say  I  should  like  to  know  what  on  earth  there  is  in 
American  cavalrymen  to  make  them  such  objects  of  aversion  to  your 
master ;  and  I  would  be  glad  to  know  how  it  is  such  a  girl  as  that  is 
dragged  into  such  a  hole  as  yonder." 

Ewen  sat  in  silence  a  moment,  studying  the  young  fellow's  face. 

"  You  deserve  a  better  welcome  there,"  he  presently  answered,  "  and 
I  don't  know  that  I  can  do  better  than  to  tell  you  the  truth, — what  I 
know  of  it.  And  let  me  tell  you  that  if  the  old  man  knew  of  my 
speaking  of  it  to  any  one,  I'd  lose  the  most  lucrative  but  least  attractive 
place  I  ever  had.  Do  you  see  ?" 

"  Then  perhaps  you  had  better  not  tell  me.  I  do  not  care  to  pry 
into  secrets." 

"  Oh,  this  is  no  secret.  It  was  thai  that  drove  him  here :  everybody 
knew  it  in  England.  You  were  mighty  shabbily  treated  at  the  ranch, 
and  you  requited  it  by  preventing  what  would  have  been  a  bloody  row 
and  by  lending  us  a  helping  hand.  Even  the  old  man  recognizes  that ; 
and  I  think  he'd  be  glad  to  say  so  to  you,  and  see  you,  if  you  were  not 
just  what  you  are, — a  cavalry  officer." 

"  Why,  what  on  earth  can  we  have  done  ?  If  any  of  our  cloth  have 
wronged  Mr.  Maitland  in  any  way,  it  is  our  right  to  know  it  and  take 
it  up." 

"It  wasn't  your  cloth,  old  fellow,"  said  Ewen,  thawing  visibly, 
"  but  it  was  the  cavalry  all  the  same  that  broke  his  heart  and  his  pride, 
and  made  his  life  the  wreck  it  is,  and  drove  him  from  his  home,  shun 
ning  the  sight  of  his  fellow-men,  all  these  years, — exiling  her,  too,  in 
the  prime  of  her  young  life.  Mr.  Perry,  there  are  only  three  or  four 
of  us  at  Dunraven  who  know  the  story,  but  we  have  only  sympathy 
and  pity — no  blame — for  him,  though  he  is  the  harshest  master  I  ever 
served." 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?"  asked  Perry. 

"  All  through  his  son.  There  had  been  more  of  them,  but  there 
was  only  the  one — Archie — when  the  Lancers  were  ordered  to  South 
Africa.  He  was  a  youngster,  only  seventeen,  they  tell  me,  and  he  had 
just  been  gazetted  to  his  cornetcy.  The  old  man  was  all  wrapped  up 
in  him,  for  of  the  three  boys  the  eldest  had  died  only  the  month  before 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  207 

the  regiment  was  ordered  on  foreign  service  and  the  second  had  been 
killed  in  India.  Both  these  two  who  were  gone  had  made  themselves 
famous  among  their  comrades  by  their  fearlessness  and  high  character, 
and  the  old  man,  of  course,  could  not  ask  Archie  to  quit  the  service 
just  when  orders  for  dangerous  duty  came.  The  boy  went  to  the  Cape 
with  his  corps,  and  got  into  the  thick  of  the  Zulu  war  just  at  the  time 
of  the  massacre  of  the  24th  at  Isandlwhana  and  the  fight  at  Rorke's 
Drift.  I  was  at  home  then,  and  all  England  was  quivering  with  grief 
over  such  needless  sacrifice  as  was  made  of  that  regiment,  and  all  ready 
to  fall  down  and  worship  such  fellows  as  Chard  and  Bromhead,  who 
made  the  superb  fight  almost  at  the  same  time.  They  say  old  Maitland 
wanted  to  go  himself,  as  volunteer  or  something,  with  Lord  Chelms- 
ford,  but  it  couldn't  be  done.  His  father  had  fought  at  Alma- and 
Inkerman,  and  his  grandfather  had  led  the  Guards  at  Waterloo.  The 
whole  tribe  were  soldiers,  you  know ;  and  now  Archie  was  with  the 
Lancers  in  Zululand,  and  the  Lancers  were  going  to  wipe  out  the  dis 
asters  of  the  first  fights  of  the  campaign,  and  Archie  was  to  uphold 
the  grand  old  fighting  name  and  come  home  covered  with  glory.  He 
was  tlie  heir  now,  and  Miss  Gladys  was  but  a  little  girl.  I  have  heard 
it  all  from  Mrs.  Cowan  :  she  was  their  housekeeper  in  those  days,  and 
a  sort  of  companion,  too,  to  Mrs.  Maitland,  who  was  very  delicate. 
The  old  man  was  very  fiery  and  proud,  and  full  of  fierce  denunciation 
of  everything  that  had  gone  wrong  in  the  campaign ;  and  he  offended 
some  people  by  the  way  he  condemned  some  officer  who  was  a  friend 
of  theirs,  and  there  were  others  who  thought  he  talked  too  much ;  but 
he  fairly  boiled  over  when  the  news  came  of  how  the  Prince  Imperial 
had  been  abandoned  by  his  escort,  and  that  a  British  officer  and  a  dozen 
men  had  run  two  miles  at  top  speed  from  a  beggarly  little  squad  of 
niggers  before  they  dared  look  round  to  see  what  had  become  of  their 
prince,  whom  they  had  left  to  fight  the  gang  alone.  That  was  old 
Maitland's  text  for  a  month.  If  any  son  of  his  had  ever  been  of  that 
party  he  would  disown,  disgrace,  deny  him,  forbid  him  his  sight,  cut 
him  off  forever.  And  right  in  the  midst  of  it  all — a  judgment,  some 
people  said — there  came  the  awful  news  that  Cornet  Maitland  of  the 
Lancers  was  to  be  court-martial  led  for  misbehavior  in  face  of  the 
enemy.  Of  course  the  old  man  only  raged  at  first, — said  it  couldn't 
be  true, — 'twas  all  some  foul  invention  or  ridiculous  blunder ;  but  he 
ran  up  to  London  and  saw  somebody  at  the  Horse-Guards, — that's  our 
War  Office,  you  know, — and  came  back  looking  a  century  older  and 


208  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

simply  crushed  to  earth.  Mrs.  Cowan  says  they  showed  him  the  offi 
cial  report  of  a  general  officer  who  was  called  upon  to  explain  why  he 
had  not  sent  certain  troops  to  the  relief  of  an  advanced  and  threatened 
post,  and  he  replied  that  he  had  sent  the  order  by  Cornet  Maitland  of 
the  Lancers,  had  given  him  an  escort  of  a  dozen  men  and  strict  injunc 
tions  to  push  through  by  night,  at  all  hazards,  though  the  way  was 
beset  with  Zulus,  and  that  he  neither  went  through  nor  returned,  but 
was  found  hiding  at  a  kraal  two  days  after,  only  twenty  miles  away. 
The  escort  returned,  and  after  much  cross-examination  had  told  the 
story,  separately  and  collectively,  that  the  young  officer  had  become 
utterly  unnerved  towards  midnight  by  the  reports  from  scouting-parties 
and  others,  had  declared  to  them  that  it  was  simply  madness  to  attempt 
to  push  through, — they  would  be  massacred  to  a  man, — and,  though 
they  announced  that  they  were  stanch  and  ready,  he  refused,  and 
ordered  them  to  bivouac  where  they  were  for  the  night ;  and  in  the 
morning  he  had  disappeared.  They  declared  they  supposed  he  had 
gone  back  to  camp,  and,  after  waiting  a  day,  they  returned,  reporting 
him  lost.  When  found  at  the  kraal  he  was  delirious  with  fever, 
or  pretended  to  be,  said  the  general,  and  he  was  brought  in  under 
arrest,  and  the  trial  was  to  proceed.  I  don't  know  how  it  turned 
out.  lie  was  not  court-martialled,  but  permitted  to  return  to  England. 
It  was  said  he  told  a  very  different  story, — that  he  had  begged  the 
brigade  major  who  detailed  the  escort  to  let  him  have  half  a  dozen  of 
his  own  Lancers  instead  of  the  pack  of  irregulars  they  gave  him ;  he 
did  not  trust  them,  and  feared  they  would  abandon  him  as  they  had  the 
Prince ;  but  the  staff-officer  said  the  order  couldn't  be  changed, — these 
men  knew  the  country,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  you  know ;  and  there 
was  one  fellow  in  the  Lancers  who  stuck  to  it  that  he  believed  Mait 
land  had  tried  his  best  to  get  through  alone.  But  'twas  all  useless : 
somebody  had  to  be  held  responsible,  and  the  failure  was  all  heaped 
on  him.  Meantime,  there  had  been  fury  at  home ;  old  Maitland  had 
written  casting  him  off,  repudiating, — curs-ing  him,  for  all  I  know, — 
and  the  next  thing  there  came  a  messenger  from  the  captain  of  his  ship 
at  Southampton.  They  brought  his  watch,  his  ring,  his  sword  and 
portmanteaus,  and  a  letter  which  was  written  on  receipt  of  that  his 
father  sent  him, — a  long  letter,  that  the  old  man  never  read  to  any 
living  soul,  but  broods  over  to  this  day.  The  young  fellow  bade  them 
all  good- by ;  he  would  not  live  to  disgrace  them  further,  if  that  was 
what  was  thought  of  him  at  home,  and  leaped  overboard  from  tho 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  209 

steamer  the  night  after  she  weighed  anchor, — no  one  aboard  could  tell 
just  when,  but  he  was  writing  in  his  state-room  as  she  cleared  the 
harbor,  and  the  steward  saw  him  undressing  at  nine  o'clock.  In  the 
morning  everything  about  his  belongings  was  found  in  perfect  order, — 
his  letter  to  the  captain  of  the  ship,  the  portmanteaus,  watch,  ring, 
clothing,  etc.,  just  as  he  described  in  that  letter, — and  he  was  no  more 
seen.  It  was  the  conviction  of  all  that  he  must  have  leaped  overboard 
in  the  darkness  when  far  out  at  sea. 

"  Then  Mrs.  Maitland  bowed  her  head  and  never  lifted  it  again. 
Then,  all  alone,  and  fiercely  rejecting  anything  like  sympathy,  old 
Maitland  took  to  travel, — came  here  to  America,  wandered  around  the 
world,  shunning  men  as  he  would  these  prairie-wolves ;  and  when  he 
had  to  go  to  England  he  would  see  no  one  but  the  attorneys  and  solici 
tors  with  whom  he  had  business.  Here  at  Dunraven  he  is  more  content 
than  anywhere,  because  h^  is  farther  from  the  world.  Here  Gladys  is 
queen  :  'twas  she  who  named  it,  two  years  ago,  for  her  mother  was  a 
connection  of  the  earl's.  But  Maitland  even  here  hates  to  have  his 
name  inentioned ;  and  that  is  why  I  say  he  refers  all  business  to  me 
and  keeps  himself  out  of  everything.  Do  you  see  what  a  weight  he 
carries  ?" 

Mr.  Ewen  had  grown  red  with  the  intensity  and  rapidity  of  his 
talk.  •  He  removed  his  hat  and  mopped  his  face  and  brow  with  a  big 
silk  handkerchief,  and  then  glanced  again  at  Perry,  who  had  listened 
with  absorbed  interest  and  who  was  now  silently  thinking  it  over, 
looking  curiously  at  Ewen  the  while. 

"  Have  I  bored  you  half  to  death  ?"  asked  the  Englishman,  some 
what  ruefully.  "  I  never  told  that  story  before,  but  it  has  been  smoul 
dering  for  years." 

"  Bored  f  No  !  I  never  was  more  interested  in  my  life.  I  was 
thinking  what  a  different  sort  of  fellow  you  were  from  the  man  I  met 
out  yonder  the  other  day.  Did  they  never  do  anything  to  clear  the 
matter  up  ?  In  our  country  it  never  would  have  been  allowed  to  rest 
there." 

"  It  was  too  far  gone ;  and  when  the  boy  killed  himself  the  thing 
was  used  by  all  the  government  papers — you'd  call  them  '  administration 
organs' — as  a  confession  of  judgment.  When  the  Lancers  came  home 
there  was  some  talk,  but  it  was  soon  hushed.  Maitland  had  shut  up 
the  old  place  by  that  time  and  gone  no  one  knew  where,  but  I  read  it 
in  one  of  the  London  papers, — Truth,  I  think, — a  story  that  two  of  the 

18* 


210  DUN  RAVEN  RANCH. 

irregulars  had  quarrelled  with  their  fellows  and  after  the  war  was  over 
told  a  tale  that  made  a  sensation  in  Cape  Colony.  They  said  that  the 
young  officer  was  a  maligned  man ;  that  up  to  midnight  he  had  pushed 
on,  but  every  scout  and  patrol  they  met  warned  them  that  thousands  of 
Zulus  were  ahead,  and  that  it  was  madness  to  try.  The  men  began 
whispering  among  themselves,  and  begged  the  sergeant  to  attempt  to 
dissuade  the  Lancer  officer ;  and  he  did,  and  they  all  began  to  talk,  but 
he  refused  to  listen.  At  last  they  halted  at  a  little  stream  and  flatly 
refused  to  go  a  step  farther.  He  ordered,  begged,  and  implored.  He 
promised  heavy  reward  to  any  one  of  their  number  who  would  come 
and  show  him  the  way.  Then  they  heard  the  night  cries  or  signals  of 
some  war-parties  across  the  fields,  and  the  sergeant  and  most  of  the  men 
put  spurs  to  their  horses  ;  the  others  followed,  and  they  rode  back  five 
miles  until  they  were  within  our  patrolled  lines ;  then  they  bivouacked, 
supposing  of  course  the  Lancer  had  followed  them.  But  he  hadn't :  he 
never  joined  them  all  next  day,  and  likely  as  not  he  had  done  his  best 
to  get  through  that  strange  country  by  night,  alone,  and  had  tried  to 
carry  his  despatches  to  the  detachment.  They  knew  they  must  tell  a 
straight  story  or  be  severely  punished.  They  were  twelve  against  one 
when  it  came  to  evidence,  as  the  sergeant  pointed  out,  and  so  they 
agreed  on  the  one  that  sent  him  to  Coventry. 

"  Some  of  the  Lancer  officers  got  hold  of  this  and  swore  they  believed 
it  true ;  but  meantime  the  government  had  had  the  devil's  own  time  in 
tiding  his  lordship  the  general  over  the  numerous  blunders  he  had  made 
in  the  campaign,  and  the  Lancers  were  summarily  ordered  off  elsewhere. 
There  was  no  one  left  to  take  up  poor  Archie's  cause  at  home,  and  the 
thing  died  out." 

"By  the  Lord  Harry,  Mr.  Ewen,  it  wouldn't  die  out  here!  We 
Yankees  would  resurrect  such  a  thing  if  it  were  old  as  a  mummy." 

"  Sometimes  I  think  old  Maitland  would  be  glad  of  the  chance  to 
do  it,  even  broken  as  he  is;  sometimes,  Mrs.  Cowan  says,  he  walks 
the  floor  all  night  and  holds  Archie's  last  letter  in  his  hands.  She 
thinks  he  charges  himself  with  having  driven  the  boy  to  suicide." 

"  Does  Miss  Maitland  never  revisit  the  old  home  ?"  asked  Perry, 
after  a  moment's  thought. 

"  She  goes  with  her  father — everywhere.  He  is  never  here  more 
than  twice  a  year,  and  seldom  for  more  than  six  weeks  at  a  time. 
Were  it  not  for  her,  though,  he  would  settle  down  here,  I  believe. 
He  went  to  Cape  Colony  and  tried  to  find  the  v  en  who  gave  out  that 


DUXRAVEN  RANCH.  211 

story,  but  one  of  them  was  dead  and  the  other  had  utterly  disappeared. 
There  were  still  six  survivors  of  that  escort,  the  sergeant  among  them, 
and  he  was  a  man  of  some  position  and  property.  They  stuck  to  the 
original  story,  and  said  the  two  men  who  started  the  sensation  were 
mere  blackmailing  vagrants.  Maitland  advertised  everywhere  for  the 
missing  man,  but  to  no  purpose.  I  think  he  and  Miss  Gladys  have 
finally  abandoned  all  hope  of  ever  righting  Archie's  name.  She  was 
only  a  child  when  it  all  happened,  but  she  worshipped  him,  and  never 
for  an  instant  has  believed  the  story  of  his  having  funked.  She's  out 
here  riding  somewhere  this  morning,  by  the  way." 

"  Who  !  Miss  Maitland  ?"  exclaimed  Perry,  with  sudden  start,  and 
a  flash  of  eager  light  in  his  blue  eyes. 

Ewen  smiled  quietly  as  he  answered,  "  Yes.  She  needed  exercise, 
and  wanted  to  come  down  to  the  gate  and  meet  Dr.  Quin.  She  went 
on  up  the  valley ;  and  I  wonder  she  is  not  back." 

The  bright  light  faded  quickly  as  it  came;  the  glad  blue  eyes 
clouded  heavily.  Ewen  looked  at  the  young  soldier,  surprise  in  his 
florid  fape, — surprise  that  quickly  deepened  into  concern,  for  Perry 
turned  suddenly  away,  as  though  looking  for  his  comrades  of  the  hunt. 

"  I  think  they're  coming  now,"  said  the  manager,  peering  up  the 
valley  under  the  shading  willows.  "  Yes  !  Won't  you  stop  a  bit  ?" 

"  Not  now,"  was  the  hurried  reply.  "  Thank  you  for  that  story  : 
it  has  given  me  a  lot  to  think  about.  I'll  see  you  again."  The  last 
words  were  almost  shouted  back ;  for,  urged  by  sudden  dig  of  the  spur, 
Nolan  indignantly  lashed  his  heels,  then  rushed  in  wrathful  gallop 
towards  the  eastern  bluffs.  It  was  no  wilful  pang  his  rider  had  in 
flicted  on  his  pet  and  comrade ;  it  was  only  the  involuntary  transmis 
sion  of  the  shock  to  his  own  young  heart, — a  cruel,  jealous  stab,  that 
came  with  those  thoughtless  words,  "  She  wanted  to  come  down  to  the 
gate  and  meet  Dr.  Quin,  and  went  on  up  the  valley."  He  would  not 
even  look  back  and  see  her  riding  by  that  man's  side. 

XII. 

To  use  the  expression  of  Mr.  Dana,  "  Ned  Perry  seemed  off  his> 
feed"  for  a  day  or  two.  The  hunt  had  been  pronounced  a  big  success, 
despite  the  fact  of  Perry's  defection, — he  had  not  even  joined  them  at 
luncheon, — and  it  was  agreed  that  it  should  be  repeated  the,  first  "origin 
day  after  muster.  That  ceremony  came  off  on  Monday  \vitii  due  pomp 


212  DUXRAVEN  RANCH. 

and  formality  and  much  rigidity  of  inspection  on  the  part  of  the  post 
commander.  It  was  watched  with  interest  by  the  ladies,  and  Mrs.  Bel- 
knap  even  proposed  that  when  the  barracks  and  kitchens  were  being 
visited  they  should  go  along.  Dana  had  been  her  devotee  ever  since 
the  day  of  the  hunt,  and  announced  his  willingness  to  carry  her  sug 
gestion  to  the  colonel,  but  Belkuap  declined.  She  wanted  a  few 
words  with  Perry,  and  did  not  know  how  to  effect  her  purpose.  When 
he  stopped  and  spoke  to  her  after  parade  on  Saturday  evening  and 
would  have  made  peace,  she  thought  to  complete  her  apparent  conquest 
by  a  show  of  womanly  displeasure  at  his  conduct,  and  an  assurance 
that,  thanks  to  Mr.  Dana,  the  day  had  been  delightful  and  his  failure 
to  accompany  her  had  been  of  no  consequence  at  all.  The  utterly 
unexpected  way  in  which  he  took  it  was  simply  a  "  stunner"  to  the 
little  lady.  So  far  from  being  piqued  and  jealous  and  huffy,  as  she 
expected,  Mr.  Perry  justified  the  oft-expressed  opinion  of  her  sisterhood 
to  the  effect  that  "  men  were  simply  past  all  comprehension"  by  bright 
ening  up  instantly  and  expressing  such  relief  at  her  information  that 
for  a  moment  she  was  too  dazed  to  speak.  By  that  time  he  had  pleas 
antly  said  good-night  and  vanished ;  nor  had  he  been  near  her  since, 
except  to  bow  and  look  pleased  when  she  walked  by  with  Dana.  She 
never  thought  of  him  as  an  actor  before,  but  this,  said  Mrs.  Belknap 
to  herself,  looks  like  consummate  acting.  Had  she  known  of,  or  even 
suspected,  the  existence  of  a  woman  who  had  interposed  and  cast  her 
into  the  shade,  the  explanation  would  have  occurred  to  her  at  once; 
but  that  there  was  a  goddess  in  the  shape  of  Gladys  Maitland  within 
a  day's  ride  of  Rossiter  she  never  dreamed  for  an  instant.  Believing 
that  no  other  woman  could  have  unseated  her,  Mrs.  Belknap  simply 
could  not  account  for  such  utter — such  unutterable — complacency  on 
the  part  of  her  lately  favored  admirer  in  his  virtual  dismissal.  All 
Sunday  and  Monday  she  looked  for  signs  of  sulking  or  surrender,  but 
looked  in  vain.  Perry  seemed  unusually  grave  and  silent,  was  Parke's 
report  of  the  situation ;  but  whatever  comfort  she  might  have  derived 
from  that  knowledge  was  utterly  destroyed  by  the  way  he  brightened 
up  and  looked  pleased  whenever  they  chanced  to  meet.  Monday  even 
ing  he  stopped  to  speak  with  her  on  the  walk,  holding  out  his  hand 
and  fairly  beaming  upon  her :  she  icily  received  these  demonstrations, 
but  failed  to  chill  them  or  him.  Then  she  essayed  to  make  him  suffer 
the  pangs  of  the  jilted  by  clinging  to  Dana's  arm  and  smiling  up  in 
Dana's  face,  and  then  she  suddenly  started :  "  Oh,  Mr.  Dana !  How 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  213 

could  I  have  been  so  thoughtless  ? — and  this  is  your  wounded  side  !" 
Dana  protested  that  her  slight  weight  was  soothing  balm,  not  additional 
pain,  and  Perry  promptly  asseverated  that  if  he  were  Dana  he  would 
beg  her  not  to  quit  his  arm,  and  her  eyes  looked  scorn  at  him  as  she 
said,  "  How  can  you  know  anything  about  it,  Mr.  Perry  ?  You've 
never  been  in  action  or  got  a  scratch,  while  Mr.  Dana" — and  now  the 
dark  eyes  spoke  volumes  as  they  looked  up  into  those  of  her  escort — 
"  Mr.  Dana  is  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  fighting  days  of  the  regiment." 
Even  that  failed  to  crush  him ;  while  it  had  the  eifect  of  making  Dana 
feel  mawkish  and  absurd.  Perry  frankly  responded  that  he  only 
wondered  the  women  ever  could  find  time  to  show  any  civility  whatever 
to  fellows  like  him,  when  there  were  so  many  who  "  had  records."  She 
was  completely  at  a  loss  to  fathom  him,  and  when  tattoo  came  on  Monday 
night,  and  they  were  all  discussing  the  project  of  a  run  with  the  hounds 
for  the  coming  morrow, — a  May-day  celebration  on  new  principles, — 
Mrs.  Belknap  resolved  upon  a  change  of  tactics. 

Dana  was  officer  of  the  guard  and  over  at  the  guard-house,  but  nearly 
all  the  other  officers  were  chatting  about  the  veranda  and  the  gate  of 
the  colonel's  quarters.  Thither  had  Captain  Belknap  escorted  his  pretty 
wife,  and  she  was,  as  usual,  the  centre  of  an  interested  group.  Perry 
came  strolling  along  after  reporting  the  result  of  tattoo  roll-call  to  the 
adjutant,  and  Captain  Stryker  called  to  him  and  asked  some  question 
about  the  men  on  stable-guard.  The  orders  of  the  colonel  with  regard 
to  watching  the  movements  of  the  men  after  the  night  roll-call  were 
being  closely  observed,  and  when  the  trumpets  sounded  "  taps,"  a  few 
moments  later,  several  of  the  troop-commanders  walked  away  together, 
And  this  left  a  smaller  party.  It  was  just  at  this  juncture  that  Mrs. 
Belknap's  sweet  voice  was  heard  addressing  the  commanding  officer : 

"  Oh,  colonel !  Ever  since  Thursday  I  have  been  telling  Captain 
Belknap  about  those  lovely  albums  of  yours ;  and  he  is  so  anxious  to 
see  them.  Could  he  have  a  look  at  them  to-night  ?" 

"  Why,  certainly !"  exclaimed  the  colonel,  all  heartiness  and  pleasure. 
"  Come  right  in,  Belknap,  come  in, — any  of  you, — all  of  you, — where 
it's  good  and  light."  And  he  hospitably  held  open  the  screen  door. 
Perry  had  seen  the  albums  a  dozen  times,  but  he  was  for  going  in  with 
the  others,  when  he  felt  a  little  hand-pressure  on  his  arm,  and  Mrs. 
Bel  knap's  great  dark  eyes  were  gazing  up  into  his  with  mournful,  in 
credulous  appeal. 


214  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

"  Don't  you  know  I  want  to  see  you  ?"  she  murmured  so  that  only 
be  could  hear.  "  Wait !" 

And,  much  bewildered,  Mr.  Perry  waited. 

She  stood  where  she  could  look  through  the  screen  door  into  the 
parlor  beyond,  watching  furtively  until  the  party  were  grouped  under 
the  hanging  lamps  and  absorbed  in  looking  over  one  another's  shoulders 
at  the  famous  albums ;  then,  beckoning  to  him  to  follow,  she  flitted, 
like  some  eerie  sprite,  on  tiptoe  to  the  southern  end  of  the  veranda, 
where  clustering  vines  hid  her  from  view  from  the  walk  along  the 
parade.  Perry  began  to  feel  queer,  as  he  afterwards  expressed  it,  but 
he  stalked  along  after  her,  declining  to  modulate  the  thunder  of  his 
heavy  heels  upon  the  resounding  gallery.  She  put  her  finger  to  her 
lips,  and,  after  a  nervous  glance  around,  looked  at  him  warningly, 
beseechingly. 

"  What  on  earth's  the  matter  ?"  was  all  the  perplexed  and  callow 
youth  could  find  to  say,  and  in  a  tone  so  utterly  devoid  of  romance, 
sentiment,  tenderness, — anything  she  wanted  to  hear, — that  in  all  her 
experience — and  she  had  had  not  a  little — pretty,  bewitching  little 
Airs.  Belknap  could  recall  nothing  so  humiliating. 

"  How  can  you  be  so  unkind  to  me  ?"  at  last  she  whispered,  in  the 
tragic  tremolo  she  well  knew  to  be  effective :  it  had  done  execution 
over  and  again.  But  big,  handsome  Ned  Perry  looked  only  like  one 
in  a  maze ;  then  he  bent  over  her  in  genuine  concern  : 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Belknap !  What  has  happened  ?  What  has  gone 
wrong?  What  do  you  mean  by  unkindness?" 

She  faced  him,  indignantly  now :  "  Is  it  possible  you  profess  not  to 
know?" 

"By  all  that's  holy,  Mrs.  Belknap,  I  haven't  an  idea  of  what  you 
mean  to  charge  me  with.  Tell  me,  and  I'll  make  every  amend  I  know 
how." 

He  was  bending  over  her  in  genuine  distress  and  trouble :  he  had 
no  thought  but  to  assure  her  of  his  innocence  of  any  conscious  wrong. 
She  was  leaning  upon  the  balcony  rail,  and  he  rested  one  strong  hand 
upon  the  post  at  the  shaded  corner,  above  her  head,  as  he  bowed  his 
own  to  catch  her  reply. 

For  a  moment  she  turned  her  face  away,  her  bosom  heaving,  her 
little  hands  clasping  nervously,  the  picture  of  wronged  and  sorrowing 
womanhood.  His  blunt,  rugged  honesty  was  something  she  had  never 
yet  had  to  deal  with.  This  indeed  was  "  game  worth  the  candle,"  but 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  215 

something  of  a  higher  order  than  the  threadbare  flirtations  she  had 
found  so  palatable  heretofore.  She  had  expected  him  to  be  revealed 
by  this  time  as  the  admirer  who  had  only  been  playing  a  part  in  his 
apparent  acceptance  of  the  situation  of  the  last  two  days ;  she  expected 
to  be  accused  of  coquetting  with  Dana,  of  neglect,  coldness,  insult 
towards  himself;  and  this  she  would  have  welcomed  :  it  would  have 
shown  him  still  a  victim  in  her  toils,  a  mouse  she  might  toy  and  play 
with  indefinitely  before  bestowing  the  final  coup  de  grace.  But  instead 
of  it,  or  anything  like  it,  here  stood  the  tall,  handsome  young  fellow, 
utterly  ignoring  the  possibility  of  her  having  wronged  him,  and  only 
begging  to  be  told  how  he  had  affronted  her,  that  he  might  make  im 
mediate  amends.  It  was  simply  exasperating.  She  turned  suddenly 
upon  him,  hiding  her  face  in  her  hands,  almost  sobbing : 

"  And  I  thought  we  were  such — such  friends  !" 

Even  that  suggestive  tentative  did  not  lay  him  prostrate.  Fancy 
the  utter  inadequacy  of  his  response : 

"  Why,  so  did  1 1"  This  was  too  much.  Down  came  the  hands, 
and  were  laid  in  frantic  appeal  upon  his  breast.  He  did  not  bar  the 
way ;  she  could  have  slipped  from  the  corner  without  difficulty ;  but 
the  other  method  was  more  dramatic. 

"Let  me  go,  Mr.  Perry,"  she  pleaded.  "I — I  might  have  known; 
I  might  have  known."  The  accents  were  stifled,  heart-rending. 

"  Don't  go  yet,  Mrs.  Belknap ;  don't  go  without  telling  me  what — 
what  I've  done."  And  poor  Ned  imploringly  seized  the  little  hands 
in  both  his  and  held  them  tight.  "  Please  tell  me,"  he  pleaded. 

"  No,  no !  You  would  not  understand ;  you  do  not  see  what 
I  have  to  bear.  Let  me  go,  I  beg, — please.  I  cannot  stay."  And 
her  great  dark  eyes,  swimming  in  tears,  were  raised  to  his  face,  while 
with  faint — very  faint — struggles  she  strove  to  pull  her  hands  away, 
relenting  in  her  purpose  to  go  the  moment  she  felt  that  he  was  relaxing 
the  hold  in  which  they  were  clasped,  but  suddenly  wrenching  them 
from  his  breast  and  darting  from  his  side,  leaving  Perry  in  much 
bewilderment  to  face  about  and  confront  the  doctor. 

A  little  opening  had  been  left  in  the  railing  at  the  south  end  of  the 
veranda, — the  same  through  which  the  post  surgeon  had  passed  the 
night  Mrs.  Lawrence  had  shown  to  Perry  the  answering  signal-light : 
it  was  the  doctor's  "  short  cut"  between  the  colonel's  quarters  and  his 
own  side-door,  and  soft,  unbetraying  turf  lay  there  between.  Absorbed 
in  her  melodrama,  Mrs.  Belknap  had  failed  to  note  the  coming  of  the 


216  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

intruder;  absorbed  in  his  own  stupefaction  and  his  fair  partner'r- 
apparent  depth  of  woe,  Ned  Perry  heard  nothing  but  her  soft  words 
and  softer  sighs,  until  a  deep  voice  at  his  shoulder — a  voice  whose  accent 
betrayed  no  apology  for  the  discovery  and  less  sympathy  for  the  dis 
covered — gave  utterance  to  this  uncompromising  sentiment : 

"  Mrs.  Belknap,  this  is  the  thirtieth — not  the  first — of  April." 

"And  what  has  that  to  do  with  your  sudden  appearance,  Dr.  Quin?" 
answered  the  lady,  with  smiling  lips  but  flashing  eyes.  She  rallied 
from  the  shock  of  sudden  volley  like  the  veteran  she  was,  and  took  the 
brunt  of  the  fight  on  her  own  white,  gleaming  shoulders,  needing  no 
aid  from  the  young  fellow  who  stood  there,  flushing,  annoyed,  yet  too 
perturbed  to  say  a  word  even  had  there  been  a  chance  to  get  one  in 
edgewise.  Blunt  as  he  was,  he  could  not  but  realize  the  awkwardneas 
of  the  situation.  And  to  be  so  misjudged  by  such  a  man  as  Dr.  Quin ! 
All  this  was  flashing  through  his  mind  as  the  doctor  answered, — 

"  Nothing  with  my  appearance,  Mrs.  Belknap  :  it  was  yours  I  re 
marked  upon.  You  seemed  to  think  it  All  Fools'  Day." 

"  Far  from  it,  doctor,  when  I  thought  you  miles  away." 

"Well,  well,  Mrs.  Belknap,"  said  Quin,  shrugging  his  broad 
shoulders  and  laughing  at  her  undaunted  pluck,  "I've  known  you 
fifteen  years,  and  never  have  found  you  at  a  loss  for  a  sharp  retort." 

"  In  all  the  years  you  have  known  me,  doctor,  as  child,  as  maid,  as> 
woman,  you  are  the  only  man  in  the  army  who  ever  put  me  on  the 
defensive.  I  see  clearly  that  you  would  taunt  me  because  of  this  inter 
view  with  Mr.  Perry.  Honi  soil  qui  mal  y  pense,  Dr.  Quin  !  You  are 
the  last  man  in  this  garrison — cavalry  and  all — who  can  afford  to  throw 
stones." 

"  Whew-w-w  !"  whistled  the  doctor.  "  What  a  little  spitfire  you 
always  were,  to  be  sure  ! — Mr.  Perry,"  said  he,  turning  suddenly  on  the 
young  officer,  "  let  me  at  once  apologize  for  a  very  misleading  observa 
tion.  When  I  spoke  of  having  known  Mrs.  Belknap  fifteen  years  she 
instantly  thought  I  meant  to  make  her  out  very  much  older  than  she 
is ;  and  hence  these  recriminations.  She  always  objected  to  me  because 
I  used  to  tease  her  when  she  was  in  her  first  long  dresses, — the  prettiest 
girl  at  Fort  Leavenworth, — and  she's  never  gotten  over  it.  But  her 
father  and  I  were  good  friends,  and  I  should  like  to  be  an  honest  one 
to  his  daughter.  Good-night  to  you  both." 

"  One  moment,  Dr.  Quin,"  said  Perry,  springing  forward.     "  You 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  217 

have  seen  fit  to  make  comments  and  insinuations  that  have  annoyed 
Mrs.  Belknap  at  a  time  when  she  was  under  my  escort " 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Perry,  no !  no !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Belknap,  laying  her 
hand  on  his  arm.  "  Not  a  word  of  that  kind,  I  implore !  Hush  I 
here  comes  my  husband." 

"  Ah,  Belknap,"  said  the  doctor,  blandly,  as  the  big  captain  came 
hurriedly  forth  with  searching  glance  along  the  dark  gallery,  "  here  you 
find  me,  as  usual,  trying  to  be  devoted  to  Mrs.  B.  whenever  I  can  get 
you  out  of  the  way.  Why  the  jeuce  can't  you  stay  ?" 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it,  doctor  ?"  answered  the  captain,  in  tones  of 
evident  relief.  "  It  is  far  too  chilly  for  this  young  woman  to  be  sitting 
here  without  a  wrap,  is  it  not  ?  Come  inside,  Dolly.  Come,  doctor. — 
Halloo!  what's  that?" 

A  cavalry  trumpeter  came  springing  through  the  gate  and  up  on 
the  veranda. 

"  Is  Captain  Stryker  here  ?"  he  panted. 

"  No.     What's  the  matter  ?"  demanded  Perry. 

"  Trouble  at  the  stables,  sir.     Sergeant  Gwynne's  assaulted  again." 

Pen*y  sprang  from  the  veranda  and  went  tearing  across  the  dark 
level  of  the  parade  as  fast  as  active  legs  could  carry  him,  leaving  the 
doctor  far  behind.  As  he  passed  the  company  quarters  he  noted  that 
several  men  were  leaping  from  their  broad  galleries,  some  just  pulling 
on  a  blouse,  others  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  but  all  hastening  towards  the 
stables,  where  dim  lights  could  be  seen  flitting  about  like  will-o'-the- 
wisps.  One  of  these  troopers  came  bounding  to  his  side,  and  would 
have  passed  him  in  the  race.  He  recognized  the  athletic  form  even  in 
the  darkness,  and  hailed  him  : 

"  That  you,  Sergeant  Leary  ?     What's  gone  wrong  ?" 

"  It's  thim  blackguards  from  below,  sir.     Who  else  could  it  be  ?" 

"  Those  people  at  the  ranch  ?" 

"  The  very  ones,  sir.  No  one  else  would  harm  Sergeant  Gwynne. 
Sure  we  ought  to  have  wound  'em  up  the  one  night  we  had  a  chance, 
sir." 

Breathless,  almost,  they  reached  the  stables.  The  horses  were  all 
snorting,  stamping,  and  plunging  about  in  their  stalls,  showing  every 
indication  of  excitement  and  alarm.  From  the  stables  of  the  adjoining 
companies  other  men  had  come  with  lanterns,  and  a  group  of  perhaps 
half  a  dozen  troopers  was  gathered  about  the  form  of  a  cavalry  sergeant 
who  was  seated,  limp  and  exhausted,  at  the  western  door- way.  One 
K  19 


218  D  VNB A  YEN  RANCH. 

soldier  was  bathing  his  face  with  a  sponge ;  the  first  sergeant  of  the 
troop  was  bending  over  and  trying  to  feel  the  pulse. 

"  Stand  back,  you  men  !"  he  said,  authoritatively,  as  he  caught 
sight  of  the  lieutenant's  shoulder-straps.  "  Leave  a  lantern  here. — Now, 
Gwynne,  here's  Lieutenant  Perry.  Can  you  tell  him  who  it  was  ?" 

Gwynne  feebly  strove  to  rise,  but  Perry  checked  him. 

"  Sit  down  !  The  doctor  is  coming ;  don't  attempt  to  move,"  panted 
the  young  officer.  "  Tell  me  what  you  know  about  it,  Sergeant  Hos-| 
mer." 

"  Nothing  but  this,  sir.  I  was  in  the  office,  when  Trumpeter  Peter- 
sen  ran  in  and  said  they  were  killing  Sergeant  Gwynne.  I  sent  him 
for  the  captain  and  grabbed  my  revolver  and  ran  here  as  hard  as  I  could. 
He  was  lying  just  outside  the  door  when  I  got  here,  and  not  another 
soul  in  sight.  Sergeant  Koss,  of  F  Troop,  and  Sergeant  Fagan,  of  B, 
came  with  their  lanterns  from  the  stables  next  door ;  but  they  had  not 
even  heard  the  trouble." 

"  Where  was  the  stable-guard  ?" 

"  Inside,  sir,  and  he's  there  now.  He  heard  the  scuffle,  he  says, 
and  ran  to  give  the  alarm  and  to  protect  the  sergeant,  but  the  men 
scattered  when  he  came,  and  he  saw  none  of  them." 

"  Tell  him  to  come  here.  Let  some  of  these  men  go  in  and  quiet 
the  horses.  The  captain  will  be  here  in  a  minute,  and  he  will  want  to 
see  that  stable-man.  Who  is  it  ?" 

"  Kelly,  sir." 

By  this  time  Dr.  Quin  came  lumbering  heavily  up  the  slope  to  the 
stable  door.  His  manner  \vas  very  quiet  and  very  grave  as  he  bent 
over  the  injured  man  and  carefully  studied  his  face  by  the  light  of  the 
sergeant's  lamp.  Gwynne  partially  opened  his  eyes  and  turned  his 
head  as  though  the  glare  were  too  painful.  The  doctor  spoke  gently : 

"You  know  me,  sergeant? — Dr.  Quin.  Can  you  tell  me  what 
struck  you?  Are  you  hurt  elsewhere  than  in  the  head?" 

Gwynne  made  no  reply  for  a  moment,  then  faintly  answered, — 

"  Stunned,  mainly,  and  one  or  two  kicks  after  I  was  knocked  down." 

Then  came  a  deeper  voice,  quiet  but  authoritative,  and  the  group 
that  had  begun  to  close  in  again  about  the  doctor  and  his  patient  fell 
back  as  Captain  Stryker  strode  into  their  midst. 

"  Sergeant  Hosmer,  send  all  these  men  of  the  troop  back  to  their 
quarters  at  once,  and  permit  no  more  to  come  out. — Is  he  much  hurt, 
doctor  ?" 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  219 

"  Somewhat  stunned,  he  says.     I've  made  no  examination  yet." 

The  captain  looked  about  him.  Except  one  sergeant  holding  a 
lantern,  the  other  troopers,  obedient  to  his  order,  were  slowly  iading 
back  into  the  darkness  on  their  way  to  the  barracks.  Only  the  doctor, 
Mr.  Perry,  and  the  sergeant  remained  by  the  side  of  the  injured  man. 
Then  came  the  question, — 

"  Who  did  this,  Gwynne?" 

No  answer.  A  deeper  shade  of  pain  and  trouble  seemed  to  pass 
over  the  young  sergeant's  face.  He  made  an  effort  to  speak,  hesitated, 
and  at  last  replied, — 

"  I  cannot  say,  sir." 

"  You  know,  do  you  not  ?" 

Again  pained  silence  and  embarrassment.  At  last  the  sergeant 
leaned  slowly  forward  and  spoke  : 

"  Captain,  the  men  were  masked,  the  voices  disguised.  I  could  not 
see  the  dress  in  the  darkness.  I  was  struck  on  the  head  almost  the 
instant  I  got  outside  the  door,  and  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to 
identify  one  of  them." 

"  Do  you  think  it  was  the  same  gang  you  had  the  trouble  with  at 
Dunraven  ?" 

"  I — could  not  say,  sir." 

"  Do  you  suspect  any  of  our  own  men  ?" 

"  I — would  not  say  that,  sir." 

"Where  is  the  stable-guard?"  asked  Stryker.  "Send  him 
here." 

And  presently  Trooper  Kelly — a  wiry  little  Irishman,  with  a 
twinkling  eye  and  an  expression  of  mingled  devilment  and  imperturba 
bility  in  his  face — came  forth  from  the  stable  door  and  stood  attention, 
awaiting  his  examination. 

"  Where  were  you  when  this  assault  took  place,  Kelly  ?" 

"  At  the  far  end  of  the  stables,  sir,"  replied  Kelly,  with  prompt 
and  confident  tone. 

"  Then  of  course  you  saw  and  know  nothing  of  it." 

"  Not  a  wor-rad,  sir." 

"  Why  did  you  let  a  gang  from  that  .English  ranch  come  here  and 
beat  your  sergeant  before  your  very  eyes  ?" 

Kelly  reddened  at  the  very  idea : 

"  I'd  ha'  died  first,  sir  !     Sure  they'd  niver  dared "     And  then 


220  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

Kelly  stopped  short.  His  Celtic  pride  had  been  touched  to  the  quick, 
and  had  it  not  proved  too  much  for  even  Irish  wit  ? 

"  How  did  they  get  the  sergeant  out  of  the  stable  at  this  hour  of 
the  night?" 

"  Sure  they  called  him  out,  sir." 

"  And  the  sergeant  happened  to  be  down  there  by  the  door  at  the 
time?" 

"  No,  sir  :  he  was  in  his  room,  beyant, — up  there  by  the  forage." 

"  That's  a  long  distance  from  this  door,  Kelly ;  and  if  he  could 
hear  it  in  his  room  you  could  hear  it  farther  away." 

"  I  wasn't  farther  away  thin,  sir :  I  was  down  here  when  they 
axed  for  him." 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  open  the  door  and  see  who  was  making  such 
a  racket,  shouting  for  Sergeant  Gwynne  after  taps  ?" 

"Sure  they  didn't  shout  at  all  at  all,  sir;  they  axed  for  him  quiet 
and  respectable  like,  an'  I  wint  and  told  him." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  see.  And  then,  having  told  him,  you  went  away  to 
the  far  end  of  the  stable." 

"  Yis,  sir, — just  so,  sir ;  an'  the  moment  I  heard  the  scrimmidge, 
sir,  I  ran  as  hard  as  I  could." 

"Of  course  you  considered  it  was  none  of  your  business  what 
people  might  want  with  the  stable-sergeant  at  night." 

"  No,  sir.     If  he  wanted  me  he  had  a  right  to  tell  me  to  come." 

"  We  differ  on  that  point,  Kelly,"  said  the  captain,  quietly.  "  For 
a  guard,  you  displayed  a  lack  of  curiosity  that  is  simply  fatal. — Relieve 
him,  Sergeant  Hosmer,"  he  continued,  placidly,  and  then,  taking  Perry 
by  the  arm,  led  him  to  one  side.  There  was  a  few  minutes'  low-toned 
talk  between  the  officers  while  Gwynne  was  being  led  away  by  the 
doctor,  and  when  on  the  following  morning  Colonel  Brainard  looked 
over  the  report  of  Captain  Stryker's  troop  he  was  surprised  to  note  in 
the  column  of  remarks  explanatory  of  the  alterations  from  the  status 
of  the  previous  day, — 

"Sergeant  Gwynne  from  daily  duty  as  stable-sergeant  to  sick  in 
hospital,  Sergeant  Leary  from  duty  to  arrest,  and  Private  Kelly  from 
duty  to  confinement." 

XIII. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  there  was  an  atmosphere  of  suppressed 
excitement  over  the  garrison  this  May-day  morning,  Mrs.  Belknap's 


DUNEAVEN  RANCH.  221 

hunt  came  off  according  to  plan,  and  the  three  heroines  of  the  previous 
run  rode  forth  with  but  slight  change  of  escort.  Captain  Stryker  felt 
constrained  to  remain  in  garrison  :  he  had  a  quiet  investigation  to  make, 
and  was  observed  to  be  in  close  conversation  with  Dr.  Quin  as  the  gay 
party  assembled  in  front  of  Colonel  Brainard's  quarters.  Mr.  Perry 
appeared  in  his  captain's  stead,  and  very  politely  requested  the  honor 
of  being  escort  to  Mrs.  Lawrence,  who  accepted,  yet  looked  a  trifle  em 
barrassed  as  she  did  so.  Indeed,  not  until  she  had  stolen  an  appealing 
glance  at  her  husband  and  heard  his  cordial  "  By  all  means,  dear  ; 
Perry  can  guide  you  far  better  than  I,  and  perhaps  you'll  win  anotlin 
mask,"  did  she  thankfully  say  "  Yes."  Dana  rode  with  Mrs.  Belknap, 
as  before,  and  it  was  the  colonel  himself  who  suggested  to  Stryker  that 
Mr.  Perry  should  accompany  Mrs.  Lawrence  this  day,  and  that  he,  the 
colonel,  should  ride  with  Mrs.  Spragtie. 

Perry  had  eagerly  lent  himself  to  the  proposition  :  he  figured  that 
now  he  could  have  an  uninterrupted  chat  with  Mrs.  Lawrence  and  hear 
what  she  had  to  tell  about  Dunraven.  Just  before  starting  he  sought 
Captain  Lawrence,  laughingly  told  him  the  terms  of  their  agreement, 
and  begged  that  he  would  relax  his  marital  injunction  and  permit  her 
to  give  him  such  details  as  she  happened  to  be  in  possession  of.  "  In 
deed,  Captain  Lawrence,"  he  said,  "  I  ask  from  no  idle  curiosity.  I 
have  been  to  the  ranch,  as  you  now  know,  and  have  good  reason  for 
asking."  To  his  surprise,  the  captain  replied  substantially  that,  while 
he  had  regretted  Mrs.  Lawrence's  impulsive  revelations,  he  had  thought 
it  all  over  and  decided  that  the  best  way  out  was  that  Perry  should  be 
told  the  whole  story  and  be  able  to  see  how  very  little  there  was  to  it. 
He  had  decided,  therefore,  to  tell  him  himself;  "and  this  evening, 
Perry,  if  you  will  dine  with  us  informally,  we'll  talk  it  over  afterwards. 
Meantime,  I  prefer  Mrs.  Lawrence's  name  should  not  be  mentioned  in 
connection  with  any  story  there  may  be  afloat :  so  oblige  me  by  saying 
nothing  to  her  on  the  subject." 

This  was  one  matter  for  reflection,  and  something  of  a  surprise ; 
but  there  was  still  another,  and  even  greater  one.  That  very  morning, 
just  before  guard-mount,  and  while  he  was  dressing,  Perry  shouted, 
"  Come  in,"  responsive  to  a  knock  at  his  sitting-room  door,  and  in  came 
Captain  Stryker.  The  object  of  his  early  call  was  explained  in  very 
few  words. 

"  Perry,"  said  he,  "  I  have  been  over  to  see  Sergeant  Gwynne  this 
morning,  and  the  doctor  walked  back  from  hospital  with  me  and  told 

19* 


222  DUNBAVEN  RANCH. 

me  of  your  threatened  disagreement  of  last  night.  If  it  had  not  been 
for  that  sudden  call  to  the  stables  I  fancy  there  might  have  been  a 
quarrel.  Now,  I  think  you  know  I'm  one  of  the  last  men  to  let  an 
officer  of  my  regiment — especially  my  troop — be  placed  in  a  false  posi 
tion,  and — you  can  afford  to  leave  this  matter  in  my  hands,  can  you 
not?" 

"  Certainly,  Captain  Stryker." 

"  Then  I  want  you  to  say  nothing  to  Quin  on  the  subject,  and  to 
treat  him,  as  far  as  possible,  as  though  nothing  had  happened.  His 
relations  with  the  lady's  father  and  family  were,  and  are,  such  that  she 
ought  to  treat  him  with  respect  and  deference,  and  to  accept  his  advice 
even  though  it  be  given  in  a  style  that  Carlyle,  his  favorite  author,  is 
mainly  responsible  for." 

"  There  was  absolutely  nothing  in — in  that "Well,  captain," 

stammered  poor  Ned,  "  I  don't  know  how  to  say  what  I  want  to  say." 
He  wanted  to  say  there  was  nothing  in  that  interview  which  could 
possibly  be  criticised,  but  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that,  on  the  con 
trary,  there  was  a  good  deal.  Then  he  desired  to  assure  his  captain 
that,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  there  wasn't  a  suspicion  of  wrong 
doing  ;  but — heavens  and  earth  ! — that  was  equivalent  to  saying  the 
lady  was  doing  all  that  was  open  to  remark,  and  nothing  would  ever 
induce  him  to  "  give  away  a  woman,"  as  he  would  have  expressed  it. 
Perry  stammered  and  reddened  all  the  more,  and  at  last  gave  it  up  in 
despair,  Stryker  sitting  there  the  while  with  a  quiet  grin  on  his  bronzed 
face,  and  mechanically  slashing  his  boot-legs  with  a  rid  ing-switch. 

"  I  think  I  understand  the  situation,  Perry,  and  there's  no  great 
harm  done.  Only,  let  the  matter  drop, — so  far  as  the  doctor  is  con 
cerned,  I  mean :  I  do  not  presume  to  obtrude  advice  upon  you  as  to 
anything  else." 

And,  though  he  had  meditated  a  different  course,  and  had  fully  in 
tended  hunting  up  Dana  and  sending  him  with  a  note  to  call  upon  the 
doctor  for  an  "explanation,"  he  was  glad  to  have  a  man  of  Stryker's 
standing  cry  halt.  All  the  same  he  was  sore  incensed  against  Dr. 
Quin, — mainly  because  of  the  jealous  pain  he  suffered  at  the  knowledge 
of  his  being  so  welcomed  by  Gladys  Maitland  when  he  saw  fit  to  visit 
the  ranch  ;  and  this  pain  gnawed  all  the  more  angrily  now  at  thought 
of  the  embarrassing — even  suspicious — situation  in  which  that  very 
man  had  found  him  on  the  previous  evening.  Pressing  duties  and 
aurried  preparations  kept  him  from  brooding  too  much  upon  these  sore 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  223 

points,  but  the  youngsters  all  rallied  him  upon  his  preoccupation  while 
at  their  merry  breakfast-table.  He  had  resolved  that  there  was  one 
thing  he  could  and  would  bring  to  an  issue  with  Dr.  Quin,  and  was  all 
impatience  for  the  coming  of  evening,  that  he  might  hear  from  the  lips 
of  Captain  Lawrence  the  actual  stories  that  had  been  in  circulation  con 
cerning  Dunraven  Ranch.  He  never  went  out  to  a  hunt  so  utterly 
indifferent  to  the  fortunes  of  the  day,  so  eager  to  have  it  all  over  and 
done  with.  And  yet — and  yet — never  had  there  opened  to  him  a  day 
so  radiant  with  glorious  possibility ;  never  before  in  all  his  young  life 
had  nightfall  proved  so  unwelcome  when  it  finally  came. 

The  first  rabbit  was  started  before  they  were  a  mile  from  Rossiter, 
and  the  hounds  tumbled  over  him  nearly  a  league  away  down  the 
valley  of  the  Monee.  It  was  while  they  were  watering  their  horses  in 
the  stream  that  Mrs.  Belknap  rode  up  beside  them  and  laughingly 
addressed  Mrs.  Lawrence : 

"  That  was  too  much  of  a  straight-away  for  either  of  us,  Mrs. 
Lawrence  ;  but  what  wager  shall  we  have  on  the  first  mask  after  this  ?" 

"•Why,  Mrs.  Belknap!  I  can  never  hope  to  rival  you.  It  was 
mere  accident,  and  good  guiding  on  the  part  of  some  of  the  officers  who 
were  kind  enough  to  stay  by  me,  that  enabled  me  to  be  '  in  at  the  death' 
the  other  day." 

"  You  have  Mr.  Perry  to  lead  you  to-day.  Surely  with  such  a 
guide  you  ought  to  be  inspired. — Am  I  to  see  anything  of  you  to-day  ?" 
she  almost  whispered  to  him,  as  her  stirrup  brushed  his  riding-boot. 

"  Certainly,"  he  answered,  quietly,  and  looking  her  over  with  frank 
blue  eyes  that  were  rather  too  clear  and  calm  for  her  mood.  "  If  Mrs. 
Lawrence  will  excuse  me  a  few  moments  by  and  by,  it  will  be  a  pleasure 
to  come  and  ride  with  you.  I'll  ask  her." 

"  Indeed  you  shall  not,"  was  the  low-toned  reply,  while  the  dark 
eyes  fairly  snapped  with  indignation.  "  I  do  not  borrow  other  women's 
escort.  If  you  know  no  other  way,  that  ends  it." 

And  then  Mrs.  Sprague's  cheery  voice  had  hailed  them  as  her 
eager  horse  came  splashing  into  the  stream ;  no  opportunity  occurred 
for  further  impressive  remarks,  but  as  the  "  field"  rode  out  upon  the 
prairie  again  and  the  dogs  spread  their  yelping  skirmish-line  along  the 
front,  Mrs.  Belknap  felt  confident  that  before  they  returned  to  Rossiter 
she  would  have  her  big,  simple-hearted  admirer  in  some  shape  for  dis 
cipline.  Two  capital  runs  added  to  her  self-satisfaction,  for  in  one  of 
them  she  was  side  by  side  with  the  foremost  rider  at  the  finish,  and  in 


224  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

both  she  had  left  the  other  women  far  in  rear. '  Then  came  a  third,  and 
with  it  a  revelation  to  one  and  all. 

It  was  almost  noon,  and  from  a  point  well  out  on  the  prairie  to  the 
northeast  of  Dunraven  the  "  field"  was  hunting  slowly  homeward,  horses 
and  hounds  pretty  well  tired  out,  and  the  riders  quite  content  with  their 
morning's  sport.  Up  to  this  time  Perry  had  been  in  constant  attend 
ance  on  Mrs.  Lawrence,  and  had  made  no  effort  to  join  Mrs.  Belkuap. 
!  Now,  however,  he  could  not  but  see  that  every  little  while  her  eyes 
sought  his  with  significant  glance  and  that  she  was  riding  well  out  to 
the  left  of  the  party,  Dana  faithfully  hovering  about  her.  The  colonel 
with  Mrs.  Sprague  ranged  alongside  just  then,  and  a  general  conversa 
tion  ensued,  in  the  course  of  which  Perry  found  himself  a  trifle  in  the 
way.  If  there  was. one  thing  fastidious  Nolan  did  not  like,  it  was  to 
be  crowded  by  horses  for  whom  he  had  no  particular  respect ;  and,  as  a 
number  of  riders  were  grouped  about  Mrs.  Lawrence  at  the  moment, 
it  resulted  that  Nolan's  teeth  and  heels  began  to  make  play,  and  Perry 
laughingly  resigned  his  position  at  her  side,  in  order,  as  he  expressed  it, 
"  to  give  you  other  fellows  a  chance."  Even  then,  as  he  fell  to  the  rear, 
it  was  with  no  thought  or  intention  of  joining  Mrs.  Belknap.  But,  once 
clear  of  the  merry  group,  his  eyes  sought  the  distant  outlines  of  Dun- 
raven  Ranch,  glaring  in  the  noonday  sun  beyond  the  Monee,  and  be 
tween  him  and  that  mysterious  enclosure  whither  his  thoughts  were  so 
constantly  wandering  there  rode  the  dainty  lady,  the  Queen  of  the  Chase, 
so  far  as  that  day  was  concerned  at  least,  and  she  was  signalling  to  him 
with  her  riding-whip.  Oddly  enough,  when  Perry  rode  up  to  obey  hei 
summons,  Mr.  Dana  presently  found  means  to  excuse  himself  and  join 
the  main  body. 

"  Mr.  Perry,"  she  said,  as  soon  as  Dana  was  out  of  hearing,  "  Mrs, 
Page  will  be  with  us  to-night,  or  to-morrow  morning  at  latest." 

"Will  she?"  answered  he,  unconscious,  forgetful,  and  with  an  air 
of  pleased  anticipation.  "  How  pleasant  for  you  I  I'll  come  and  pay 
my  respects  the  very  first  thing." 

"  You  do  not  understand,"  was  the  reproachful  response.  "  You 
do  not  care,  I  presume ;  but  this  means  that  you  and  I  will  have  no 
more  long  talks  and  happy  times  together." 

"  I'm  awfully  sorry,  Mrs.  Belknap,  but  I'm  blessed  if  I  can  see 
why  we  shouldn't." 

"  No,"  despairingly,  "  it  is  plain  enough  that  you  see  nothing.  Ah, 
well !" — and  the  sigh  was  pathetic-profound,  and  the  look  from  the 


DUN  RAVEN  RANCH.  225 

dark  eyes  was  unutterable  in  its  sadness,  "  I  suppose  it  is  better  so, — 
better  so."  She  was  silent  a  moment,  and  Perry's  puzzled  faculties  took 
refuge  in  a  long  look  over  towards  Dunraven  again  :  he  fancied  he  saw 
figures  moving  down  the  slope  on  the  southern  side. 

"  One  thing  I  want  you  to  promise  me,"  she  presently  said,  sad  and 
soft  and  low.  There  was  no  reply.  Looking  up,  she  saw  his  lu-ad 
was  averted.  "Was  he  feeling  the  sting,  then,  after  all  ?  Was  he 
actually  suffering  a  little  pang  after  this  affectation  of  nonchalance  ? 

"  One  thing  you  must  promise,  for  my  sake,"  she  repeated. 

And  still  no  answer  came.  How  odd  !  He  was  bending  over  in 
the  saddle  as  though  turning  from  her, — perhaps  to  hide  his  face  from 
her  and  from  them  all.  He  had  shifted  the  reins  into  his  right  hand, 
and  was  apparently  fumbling  at  the  breast  of  his  riding-coat  with  the 
left.  Was  it  the  handkerchief  he  needed  ?  Were  there  starting  tears 
in  those  blue  eyes  that  he  dared  not  let  her  see?  She  could  not  lose 
that  luxury  !  Out  went  the  little  hand  and  touched  his  arm.  Her 
tone  was  sweet,  thrilling,  appealing,  yet  commanding  :  she  would  see  his 
face.  » 

"  Mr.  Perry,— Ned  I  Look  at  me." 

"  Eh  !  oh  !  What !  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Belknap,  but  I  was 
trying  to  make  out  who  that  was  in  the  timber  yonder.  Looks — looks 
Almost  like  a  woman  on  horseback,  doesn't  it  ?" 

But  when  he  appealed  to  her  for  confirmation  of  his  timid,  half- 
credulous  vision  he  was  aghast  at  the  look  in  her  face. 

"  You  were  not  listening  !  You  were  not  even  thinking  of  what  I 
was  saying !"  she  began,  her  white  teeth  set,  her  soft  lips  livid  with 
wrath ;  but  she  suddenly  controlled  herself, — none  too  soon,  for  Dana 
came  trotting  up. 

"  Say,  Perry,  what  do  you  make  that  out  to  be  down  there  in  the 
valley  ?  Colonel  Brainard  and  I  feel  sure  it's  a  lady  on  horseback." 

And,  looking  at  Perry,  Mrs.  Belknap  saw  that  he  had  flushed  to 
the  very  temples, — that  an  eager,  joyous  light  had  sprung  to  his  eyes ; 
but  before  she  could  say  a  word  there  came  a  shout  from  the  huntsman, 
a  yell  from  the  leading  line,  a  simultaneous  yelp  from  the  curs  and 
mongrels  among  the  "  irregulars,"  and  her  horse  leaped  at  the  bit  and 
went  tearing  off  towards  the  Monee,  foremost  in  mad  pursuit  of  a 
wildly  careering  "jack." 

"  Come !"  she  called,  as  she  glanced  over  her  shoulder ;  but  the 
sight  was  one  that  only  added  to  her  wrath.  Nolan,  plunging  and 


226  DVNRAVEN  RANCH. 

*norting,  was  held  to  the  spot,  while  his  rider,  sitting  like  a  centaur, 
was  still  eagerly  gazing  over  into  the  distant  eottomvoods.  The  next 
instant  she  realized  that  all  the  field  were  thundering  at  her  heels,  and 
the  instinct  of  the  sportsman  came  to  her  aid.  She  could  not  be  beaten 
in  the  chase. 

For  half  a  mile  Bunny  shot  like  a  streak  of  light  straight  away 
south  west  ward,  the  hounds  bunched  in  a  slaty,  sweeping  cloud  not 
thirty  yards  behind  the  bobbing  tuft  of  his  tail.  Then  he  began  a 
long  circle  towards  the  stream,  as  though  to  head  for  a  "  break"  that 
extended  some  rods  back  from  the  line  of  bluffs.  Another  minute,  and 
he  had  reached  its  partial  shelter  and  darted  in.  For  the  next  minute 
he  was  lost  to  sight  of  his  human  pursuers,  but  presently  flashed  into 
view  again  down  in  the  creek-bottom  and  "  streaking  it"  up  along  the 
northern  bank,  with  the  whole  pack  at  his  heels.  The  bluffs  were  steep 
just  here,  some  of  the  riders  a  trifle  timid,  and  all  the  "  field"  reined 
in  a  little  as  they  made  the  descent;  Dana,  Mrs.  Belknap,  Parke,  Mrs. 
Lawrence,  Graham,  the  colonel,  and  Mrs.  Sprague  straightened  out  for 
their  pursuit  in  the  order  named  the  instant  they  reached  the  level  of 
the  valley.  The  hounds  were  far  ahead  by  this  time,  and  the  two  light 
troopers  in  charge  of  them  close  at  their  heels ;  but  who — what  was 
the  figure  that  flashed  into  view  between  those  huntsmen  and  the  field, 
darting  like  arrow  from  the  fringe  of  willows  and  dashing  straight  in 
wake  of  the  quarry  ?  Thirty  yards  ahead  of  the  foremost  riders  of 
the  Rossiter  party  a  superb  English  hunter,  the  bit  in  his  teeth,  his 
eyes  afire  and  his  head  high  in  air,  fresh,  vigorous,  raging  with  long- 
imprisoned  passion  for  the  sport  of  the  old^land  home,  gaining  on 
the  hounds  at  every  stride,  and  defying  the  utmost  efforts  of  his  rider, 
leaped  from  the  covert  of  the  timber  into  sight  of  one  and  all,  bearing 
a  lovely  but  most  reluctant  victim  on  his  back. 

In  vain  with  might  and  main  she  leaned  back  and  tugged  at  the 
reins :  though  checked  in  his  speed,  the  horse  still  tore  ahead,  keeping 
straight  for  the  hounds,  leaping  in  his  easy  stride  every  little  gully  or 
"  branch"  that  crossed  his  path.  Bunny  took  a  sudden  dive  into  the 
timber,  fairly  flew  across  a  narrow,  gravelly  rapid,  and  darted  up  on 
the  opposite  bank ;  the  hounds  veered  in  pursuit,  the  huntsmen  wavered 
and  sought  along  the  bank  for  a  better  place  to  cross,  but  the  mettlesome 
English  bay  lunged  through  in  the  very  wake  of  the  hounds,  crumbling 
the  sandy  banks  and  crashing  through  the  pebbly  stream-bed.  Out  on 
the  southern  slopes  went  Bunny,  close  followed  by  the  hounds ;  out  on 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  227 

their  trail  went  the  big  hunter,  but  his  rider's  hat  has  been  brushed 
away  in  the  wild  dash  though  the  timber,  and  now  a  flame  of  beautiful 
gokhn  hair — a  great  wave  of  light — flies  on  the  wind  over  his  glossy 
back,  and,  though  she  still  leans  over  the  cantle  tugging  hard  at  the 
reins,  she  is  plainly  losing  strength.  Some  of  the  Rossiter  party  burst 
through  the  timber  in  pursuit ;  some  still  ride  hopefully  up  the  north 
bank,  and  these  are  rewarded,  for  once  again  poor,  badgered,  bewildered 
Bunny  makes  a  sudden  swerve,  and,  throwing  half  the  hounds  far  be 
hind,  darts  a  second  time  to  the  shelter  of  the  banks,  with  the  other 
half  closer  at  his  heels  than  before.  Those  who  are  watching  see  the 
big  hunter  make  a  long,  circular  sweep,  then  once  again  bring  up  in 
the  wake  of  the  leaders,  once  more  go  leaping,  plunging,  crashing 
through  the  stream,  and,  in  another  minute,  rabbit,  hounds,  huntsmen, 
the  "  field,"  and  the  fair  incognita  are  all  strung  out  in  chase  along  the 
northern  shore,  and  all  eyes  can  see  that  she  is  an  English  girl  and 
wellnigh  exhausted.  Still,  no  man  can  catch  that  hunter  and  lay 
hands  on  the  rein.  She  is  riding  with  the  very  foremost  now,  leading 
the  troopers,  even,  and  still  Bunny  spins  along  in  front,  the  hounds  gnash 
ing  not  six  feet  behind  him.  A  little  point  of  bluff  juts  out  just 
ahead ;  the  stream  winds  around  its  base  and  takes  a  turn  northward 
for  a  dozen  rods.  Bunny  shoots  the  turn  like  the  pilot  of  the  lightning 
express,  the  hounds  strain  to  make  it  without  loss  of  vantage  gained, 
the  big  hunter  sways  outward  to  the  very  verge  of  the  steep  and 
crumbling  bank,  and  a  groan  goes  up  from  the  breathless  pursuers ; 
but  he  rallies  and  straightens  once  more  in  the  track,  and  the  golden 
hair,  streaming  in  the  advance,  is  the  oriflamme  of  the  chase.  Then  as 
they  round  the  point  Dana  gives  a  shout  of  joy.  Straight  down  the 
slopes,  straight  and  swift  as  rode  the  daring  hussar  from  whom  he  got 
his  name,  when  he  bore  the  fatal  message  like  arrow-flight  from  the 
Sapoune'  crest  at  Balaklava,  down  the  bluffs  to  the  right  front  comes 
Nolan,  with  Ned  Perry  on  his  back, — Perry  with  set,  resolute,  yet 
almost  frenzied  face, — Perry  with  eyes  that  flash  blue  fire  in  the  in 
tensity  of  their  gaze, — and  Nolan's  vigorous  strides  have  brought 
him  in  circling  sweep,  in  just  ten  seconds  more,  close  to  the  hunter's 
quarter,  close  behind  the  fluttering  skirt.  Just  ahead  there  is  another 
sudden  turn  to  the  left :  the  stream  goes  one  way,  the  bluffs  another, 
and  between  them  lies  a  five-acre  patch  of  level  prairie  thickly  studded, 
here,  there,  everywhere,  with  tiny  earthen  mounds  and  tiny,  gaping, 
treacherous  holes, — a  prairie-dog  '  ullage,  by  all  that's  awful !  and  that 


228  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

runaway  hunter,  mad  in  the  chase  of  the  sweeping  hounds,  is  in  the 
midst  of  it  before  mortal  hand  can  check  or  swerve  him.  Another 
second,  and  they  who  pursue  have  veered  to  right  or  left  or  reined  up 
on  the  verge, — all  save  one.  Never  faltering,  Ned  Perry  is  at  her 
hunter's  quarter, — almost  at  her  side.  They  see  him  spurring,  they  see 
him  bending  eagerly  towards  her,  they  see  that  he  is  shouting  something 
to  her, — Heaven  knows  what !  Then  there  is  a  groan  of  misery  and 
dread  from  a  dozen  breasts, — a  groan  that  as  suddenly  bursts  into  the 
gladdest  of  cheers :  the  hunter's  forefoot  has  caught  in  one  of  the  thou 
sand  little  death-traps ;  down  he  goes,  plunging,  heaving,  quivering, 
rolling  over  and  over ;  but  Nolan  leaps  gallantly  ahead,  and  Ned  Perry's 
strong  arm  has  lifted  the  girl  from  the  saddle  as  her  steed  goes  crashing 
to  earth,  and  bears  her,  drooping,  faint,  frightened,  wellnigh  senseless, 
but  safe  and  clasped  tight  to  his  thankful  and  exultant  heart. 

Another  instant,  and  Nolan  is  reined  in  in  the  veiy  midst  of  the 
tumbling  hounds,  and  Gladys  Maitland  is  the  only  woman  "  in  at  the 
death." 

XIV. 

The  group  that  gathers  there  a  moment  later  is  as  interested  a 
party  as  the  central  figures  are  interesting.  Unable  to  set  her  left  foot 
to  the  ground,  and  still  encircled  by  Perry's  arm,  Miss  Maitland  stands 
leaning  heavily  on  his  breast.  She  is  very  pale  for  a  moment,  partly 
from  exhaustion,  partly  from  pain,  for  there  was  no  time  to  free  her 
foot  from  the  stirrup,  and  the  ankle  is  severely  wrenched.  Nolan, 
riderless  now  and  cast  loose,  stands  with  lowered  head  and  heaving 
flanks  a  sympathetic  but  proudly  heroic  looker-on  :  he  knows  he  has 
played  his  part  in  that  rescue.  The  huge  English  hunter  is  plunging 
in  misery  among  the  mounds  a  few  yards  back,  his  fore-leg  broken. 
One  of  the  troopers  has  seized  his  bridle,  and  another  is  unstrapping 
the  heavy  English  saddle.  "  Splendidly  done  !"  says  the  colonel,  as 
he  trots  carefully  up,  casting  a  glance  at  the  fallen  cause  of  all  the  mis 
chief,  "  but  if  that  saddle  had  been  one  of  those  three-pronged  abomi 
nations  he  couldn't  have  swept  her  off  as  he  did."  Graham  has 
galloped  to  the  stream  for  water,  and  the  colonel  lifts  Mrs.  Sprague 
from  her  saddle,  and  together  they  advance  to  offer  sympathy  and  aid. 
Mrs.  Lawrence  follows  as  quickly  as  she  can  pick  her  way  among  the 
prairie-dog  holes.  Dana  has  deserted  Mrs.  Belknap,  and  she  alone 
remains  mounted  while  all  these  others  throng  about  the  two  who  stand 


VUNRAVEN  RANCH.  229 

there  for  the  moment,  clinging  to  each  other.  And  how  Gladys  Mait- 
land  has  raised  her  head ;  blushes  of  shame  and  confusion  triumph 
over  pallor  and  pain ;  she  strives  to  stand  alone,  but  Perry  bids  her 
desist.  The  moment  she  sees  Mrs.  Sprague's  sweet,  womanly,  sympa 
thetic  face  her  eyes  are  filled  with  comfort  and  her  heart  goes  out  to 
her.  Most  reluctantly  Perry  resigns  his  prize  to  the  arms  that  open  to 
receive  her,  and  then  come  the  wondering  exclamations  of  some,  and 
the  brief,  breathless  explanations. 

"  Don't  try  to  talk  yet,"  pleads  Mrs.  Sprague.  "  We  are  only  too 
glad  it  was  no  worse." 

"  Indeed,  I'm  not  hurt,"  answers  Gladys,  bravely, — "  only  a  little 
wrench,  but,"  and  she  laughs  nervously,  trying  to  carry  it  off  with  all 
the  pluck  and  spirit  of  her  race,  "  it  would  have  been  what  we  call  a 
1  nasty  cropper'  at  home  if" — and  her  eyes  turn  shyly  yet  with  a  world 
of  gratitude  to  his — "  it  had  not  been  for  Mr.  Perry." 

"  Oh,  then  you  know  Mr.  Perry !"  exclaims  Mrs.  Sprague,  with 
frank  delight,  and  Mrs.  Lawrence  turns  in  rejoicing  to  look  first  in  his 
glowing  face,  then  at  the  dark  beauty  of  Mrs.  Belknap  silently  listen 
ing.  "  Why,  we  had  no  idea "  And  she  concludes  irresolutely. 

"  Oh,  yes :  we  met  at  the  ranch, — at  home.  I  am  Miss  Maitland, 
you  know ;  and  that  is  my  father's  place.  But  we've  only  just  come," 
she  adds,  with  the  woman's  natural  desire  to  explain  to  new-found 
friends  why  and  how  it  was  that  they  had  not  met  before.  And  then 
the  group  is  joined  by  a  bulky  young  Briton  in  the  garb  of  a  groom, 
though  modified  to  suit  the  requirements  of  frontier  life :  he  comes 
cantering  to  the  scene  all  elbows  and  consternation  ;  he  gives  a  groan  of 
dismay  at  sight  of  the  prostrate  hunter,  but  rides  directly  to  his  mis 
tress.  She  is  paling  again  now,  and  in  evident  pain,  and  Perry's  face 
is  a  study  as  he  stands,  his  eyes  riveted  upon  her ;  but  she  strives  to 
smile  and  reassure  him. 

"  You'll  have  to  ride  to  Dunr — to  the  ranch,  Griggs,"  she  said ; 
"and — there's  no  help  for  it — papa  will  have  to  be  told.  Let  them 
send  for  me." 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Maitland,"  interrupted  Colonel  Brainard. 
"  You  are  almost  under  the  walls  of  Fort  Rossiter,  and  Dunraven  is 
miles  away.  I  have  sent  a  swift  horse  for  Dr.  Quin  and  a  spring  am 
bulance.  We  cannot  let  you  go  home,  now  that  you  are  so  near  us, 
until  you  have  had  rest  and  proper  care." 

"Indeed  we  cannot,  Miss  Maitland/'  chimed  in  both  ladies  at  a 

20 


230  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

breath.  "You  are  to  come  right  to  my  house  until  you  are  fit  to 
travel." 

"  I'm  not  very  fit  just  now,  certainly,"  she  answers,  with  a  faint 
smile ;  "  but  I  can  surely  wait  here  until  they  send :  'twill  not  be 
more  than  an  hour  at  most." 

"  It  will  be  two  hours, — perhaps  three, — Miss  Maitland,"  pleaded 
Perry,  bending  eagerly  forward.  "Do  listen  to  our  ladies  I" 

And  "  our  ladies"  prevailed.  While  Griggs  went  sputtering  off  to 
Dunraven  with  the  sorrowful  news,  the  strong  arms  of  Perry  and 
Graham  lifted  and  bore  their  English  captive  to  the  shade  of  a  clump 
of  cottouwoods.  Mrs.  Sprague  and  Mrs.  Lawrence  managed  to  make 
a  little  couch  for  her  as  a  temporary  resort.  Mrs.  Belknap  rode  up  and 
was  formally  introduced,  then  galloped  away  to  Rossiter  to  send  blankets 
for  the  picnic-couch  and  see  to  the  pillows  of  the  ambulance.  The 
colonel  and  Perry  remained  with  the  ladies  and  engrossed  their  atten 
tion  while  Graham  went  back  and  sent  two  pistol-bullets  into  the  strug 
gling  hunter's  brain,  stilling  his  pain  forever.  Then  came  Dr.  Quin 
galloping  like  the  wind  down  the  familiar  trail,  chiding  "  Gladys"  as 
though  his  right  to  do  so  were  a  long-established  thing,  and  thereby 
setting  Perry's  teeth  on  edge,  and,  long  before  the  call  for  afternoon 
stables  was  sounding,  the  fair  daughter  of  Dunraven  Ranch  was  housed 
within  the  walls  of  Rossiter  and  the  "ice  was  broken."  Perry  had 
had  the  joy  of  helping  carry  her  into  Mrs.  Sprague's  coolest  and  cosiest 
room.  She  had  held  forth  her  hand — such  a  long,  white,  beautiful 
hand — and  let  it  rest  in  his  while  she  said,  "  You  know  how  impossible 
it  is  for  me  to  tell  you  how  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Perry,"  and  he  had  simply 
bowed  over  it,  longing  to  say  what  he  thought,  but  powerless  to  think 
of  anything  else  ;  and  then  he  had  gone  to  his  own  quarters  and  shut 
himself  in.  Mrs.  Sprague — bless  her ! — had  invited  him  to  call  aftel 
retreat,  and  he  had  totally  forgotten  the  Lawrences'  dinner  when  he 
said  he  would  be  only  too  glad  to  come. 

At  the  sounding  of  stable-call  his  darky  servant  banged  at  the 
door  and  roused  him  from  his  revery.  He  rose  mechanically  and  went 
out  into  the  broad  sunshine,  glancing  first  along  the  row  to  see  how 
things  were  looking  at  the  Spragues',  and  wishing  with  all  his  heart 
that  they  were  somewhere  within  reach  of  a  conservatory,  that  he  might 
send  a  heaping  box  of  fresh  and  dewy  roses  to  that  sacred  room  where 
she  lay.  How  many  a  time,  he  thought,  had  he  strolled  into  some 
odorous  shop  in  the  cities  where  his  "  leaves"  were  spent,  and  carelessly 


DUXRAVEN  RANCH.  231 

ordered  cut  flowers  by  the  cubic  foot  sent  with  his  card  to  some  one 
with  whom  he  had  danced  the  german  the  night  before  and  never  ex 
pected  to  see  again !  What  wouldn't  he  give  now  for  jest  a  few  of 
those  wasted,  faded,  forgotten  flowers  !  He  could  see  that  the  window 
was  raised  in  the  room  to  which  they  had  carried  her,  and  a  soft  breeze 
was  playing  in  the  folds  of  the  white  curtain ;  but  no  one  was  visible. 
Dreamily,  and  with  no  thought  or  look  for  other  beings  in  the  little 
garrison,  he  strode  across  the  parade.  An  ambulance,  dusty  and  travel- 
stained,  was  in  front  of  Belknap's,  and  a  couple  of  trunks — unmis 
takably  feminine  property — were  being  unloaded.  He  could  have  seen 
it,  had  he  glanced  over  his  left  shoulder,  and  drawn  the  inference  that 
"  Mrs.  Page"  had  arrived ;  but  his  thoughts  were  engrossed  in  the  other 
direction.  Then  Graham  came  bounding  along  to  join  him,  and  near 
the  quarters  stood  Captain  Stryker,  waiting  for  him,  and  both  of  them 
were  unwilling  to  talk  of  anything  but  his  exploit  of  a  few  hours 
before :  it  was  all  over  the  garrison  by  this  time,  and  so  was  the  news 
that  Dunraven's  fair  and  hitherto  unknown  mistress  was  now  the  guest 
of  Fort  Rossiter.  All  his  jollity  and  gladness  seemed  to  have  ebbed 
away.  Perry  almost  wished  she  wrere  back  at  Dunraven  and  that  no 
one  knew  of  her  existence  but  himself  and  that  he  were  kneeling  beside 
her  once  again,  aiding  her  in  restoring  her  stricken  father  to  conscious 
ness.  But  then  he  thought  of  the  sudden  arrival  that  had  so  discon 
certed  him  that  night,  and  to-day  again.  What  did  it  mean  that  Quin 
assumed  such  airs  of  authority  ?  How  dare  he  call  her  Gladys  ? 

Stables  that  afternoon  proved  a  sore  trial  to  him.  Graham  had  to 
leave  and  go  to  his  own  troop ;  Parke  took  his  place,  and  was  all 
lively  enthusiasm  and  congratulation,  yet  wondering  at  the  mood  in 
which  he  found  his  friend.  Stryker,  after  shaking  his  hand  and  say 
ing  a  few  words  of  quiet  commendation,  noted  the  constraint  upon  his 
usually  lively  subaltern,  and  wisely  drew  his  own  conclusions.  The 
captain  had  been  engaged  much  of  the  morning  on  an  investigation  of 
the  mysterious  assault  on  Sergeant  Gwynne,  and  the  developments  had 
been  such  as  to  surround  the  case  with  additional  interest,  even  though 
nothing  tangible  in  the  way  of  evidence  was  educed.  He  had  purposed 
having  a  talk  with  Perry  while  at  stables,  but,  after  one  or  two  search 
ing  glances  at  his  face,  Stryker  concluded  it  best  to  postpone  his  proposed 
cc  nference,  and  so  allowed  Perry  to  go  on  about  his  usual  duties ;  but 
he  smiled  in  his  quiet  way  when  he  noted  the  evident  relief  with  which 
his  subaltern  heard  the  order  "  Lead  in  !"  that  announced  that  grooming 


232  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

was  over.  It  was  fifteen  minutes  more,  however,  before  the  evening 
duties  were  complete ;  and  when  at  last  the  men  went  swinging  home 
ward  in  their  white  canvas  frocks  and  Perry  could  return  to  his  quarters 
to  dress  for  his  eagerly-anticipated  call,  the  first  thing  that  met  his  eyes 
as  he  came  in  sight  of  officers'  row  was  a  huge,  bulky,  covered  travel 
ling-carriage  in  front  of  Sprague's.  Two  or  three  ladies  were  there  at 
the  gate.  Mr.  Ewen,  the  English  manager,  was  just  mounting  his 
horse;  Dr.  Quin,  too,  was  there  and  already  in  saddle;  and  before 
poor  Perry  could  get  half-way  across  the  parade,  and  just  as  the 
trumpets  were  sounding  mess-call  for  supper,  the  bulky  vehicle  started ; 
the  ladies  waved  their  handkerchiefs  and  kissed  their  hands,  and,  es 
corted  by  Ewen  and  the  doctor,  saluted  by  Colonel  Brainard  and  the 
adjutant  with  raised  forage-caps,  Gladys  Maitland  was  driven  slowly 
away, — and  Mrs.  Belknap  stood  there  in  the  little  group  of  ladies 
smiling  sweetly  upon  him  as  he  hastened  towards  them.  For  many 
a  long  day  afterwards  mess-call  always  made  him  think  of  Mrs.  Bel- 
knap's  smile,  and  Mrs.  Belknap's  smile  of  mess-call.  He  shuddered 
at  sound  of  one  or  sight  of  the  other. 

It  was  Mrs.  Sprague  who  stepped  forward  to  greet  him,  her  womanly 
heart  filled  with  sympathy  for  the  sentiment  she  suspected.  She  had 
to  push  by  Mrs.  Bel  knap  to  reach  him ;  but,  this  time,  no  consideration 
of  etiquette  stood  in  the  way. 

"  It  couldn't  be  helped,"  she  said,  in  low,  hurried  tone,  her  kind 
eyes  searching  his,  so  clouded  in  the  bitterness  of  his  disappointment. 
"  It  couldn't  be  helped.  The  news  of  her  accident — or  something — 
brought  on  a  seizure  of  some  kind.  Mr.  Maitland  was  taken  very  ill, 
and  they  sent  for  her.  The  manager  came,  and  with  him  her  old 
nurse,  Mrs.  Cowan,  and  Dr.  Quin  said  she  could  be  moved  without 
trouble :  so  she  had  to  go.  I  hated  to  have  her,  too,  for  I've  hardly 
had  a  word  with  her :  Mrs.  Belknap  has  been  there  most  of  the  after 
noon,  even  when  she  had  a  guest  of  her  own  just  arrived,  too."  And 
Mrs.  Sprague  could  not  but  show  her  vexation  at  this  retrospect. 

Perry  stood  in  silence,  looking  yearningly  after  the  retreating  vehicle. 
It  would  take  him  but  a  few  minutes  to  hasten  to  stables  and  saddle 
Nolan;  he  could  easily  catch  them  before  they  had  gone  two  miles; 
but  there  was  parade,  and  he  could  not  ask  to  be  excused.  Not  until 
he  suddenly  looked  around  and  saw  that  Mrs.  Belknap's  dark  eyes 
were  hxed  in  close  scrutiny  upon  his  face  did  he  realize  how  he  was 
betraying  himself.  Then  he  rallied,  but  with  evident  effort. 


DUNEAVEN  EANCH.  233 

The  colonel  was  standing  but  a  few  paces  away,  chatting  with  Mrs. 
Lawrence  and  his  faithful  adjutant.  Mrs.  Sprague  stepped  quickly 
towards  him  and  spoke  a  few  words  in  a  low  tone,  while  Mrs.  Belknap 
remained  looking  straight  into  Perry's  eyes.  Before  the  young  fellow 
could  gather  himself,  Colonel  Brainard,  as  though  in  reply  to  a  sug 
gestion  of  Mrs.  Sprague's,  suddenly  started,  exclaiming,  "  Why,  by  all 
means  !"  and  then  called  aloud, — 

"  Oh  !  Perry,  why  not  gallop  down  and  overtake  the  Dunraven 
carriage  and  say  good-by  ?  Here's  my  horse  all  saddled  now  right  in 
the  yard.  Take  him  and  go  :  I  would." 

There  was  something  so  hearty  and  genial  and  sympathetic  in  the 
colonel's  manner  that  Perry's  face  flushed  despite  his  effort  at  noncha 
lance.  The  thought  of  seeing  her  again  and  hearing  her  sweet  voice 
was  a  powerful  incentive.  He  longed  to  go.  The  colonel's  invitation 
was  equivalent  to  an  excuse  from  parade.  There  was  no  reason  why 
he  should  not  go.  He  was  on  the  very  point  of  thankfully  accepting 
the  tempting  offer,  when  Mrs.  Belknap's  words  arrested  him.  Clear 
and  cutting,  but  still  so  low  that  none  but  he  could  hear,  she 
spoke : 

"  Take  my  word  for  it,  you  are  not  wanted, — nor  any  other  man, — 
when  Dr.  Quin  is  with  her." 

Perry's  hesitation  vanished.  "  Thank  you,  colonel.  I  believe  I 
don't  care  to  go,"  he  answered,  and,  raising  his  cap  to  the  ladies,  turned 
on  his  heel  and  hurried  to  his  quarters.  Mrs.  Belknap  stood  watching 
him  one  moment,  then  calmly  rejoined  the  party  at  the  gate. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  with  the  languid  drawl  that  her  regimental  asso 
ciates  had  learned  to  know  so  well,  "  this  has  been  a  day  of  surprises, 
has  it  not?  Only  fancy  our  having  a  beautiful  English  heiress  here 
within  reach  and  never  knowing  it  until  to-day !" 

"  But  you  had  a  surprise  of  your  own,  had  you  not  ?"  interposed 
Mrs.  Sprague,  who  was  still  chafing  over  the  fact  that  her  lovely  and 
dangerous  neighbor  should  have  so  monopolized  the  guest  she  con 
sidered  hers  by  prior  right,  and  who  meant  to  remind  her  thus  publicly 
of  the  neglect  of  which  she  had  been  guilty. 

"  Mrs.  Page,  you  mean  ?"  responded  Mrs.  Belknap,  with  the  same 
languid,  imperturbable  manner.  "  Yes, — poor  Jennie  !  She  is  always 
utterly  used  up  after  one  of  those  long  ambulance-journeys,  and  can 
only  take  a  cup  of  tea  and  go  to  bed  in  a  darkened  room.  All  she 
wants  is  to  be  let  alone,  she  says,  until  she  gets  over  it.  I  euppose  she 

20* 


234  DUNE AVEN  RANCH. 

will  sleep  till  tattoo  and  then  be  up  for  half  the  night.  You'll  all 
come  in  and  see  her,  won't  you  ?  Au  revoir" 

And  so,  calmly  and  gracefully  and  victoriously,  the  dark-eyed  dame 
withdrew,  leaving  her  honest-hearted  antagonist  only  the  sense  of  ex 
asperation  and  defeat. 

It  was  full  quarter  of  an  hour  after  parade,  and  darkness  was  set 
tling  down  on  the  garrison,  when  Captain  Lawrence's  orderly  tapped 
at  the  door  of  Mr.  Perry's  quarters,  and,  being  bidden  "  Come  in," 
pushed  on  to  the  sitting-room,  where  he  found  that  young  officer 
plunged  deep  in  an  easy-chair  in  front  of  the  fireplace,  his  attitude  one 
of  profound  dejection. 

"  Beg  pardon,  lieutenant,"  said  the  man,  "  but  Mrs.  Lawrence  and 
the  captain's  waitin'  dinner  for  you." 

XV. 

Two  days  passed  without  event  of  any  kind.  Socially  speaking, 
the  garrison  was  enlivened  by  the  advent  of  Mrs.  Page,  and  everybody 
flocked  to  the  Belknaps'  quarters  in  order  to  do  her  proper  homage. 
When  Perry  called  he  asked  Parke  to  go  with  him,  and,  when  the 
latter  seemed  ready  to  leave,  the  former,  disregarding  a  very  palpable 
hint  from  the  lady  of  the  house,  picked  up  his  forage-cap  and  went 
likewise.  For  two  days  the  one  subject  under  constant  discussion  at 
the  post  was  the  event  of  Miss  Maitland's  sudden  appearance,  her 
perilous  run,  and  her  daring  and  skilful  rescue.  Everybody  maintained 
that  Perry  ought  to  be  a  very  proud  and  happy  fellow  to  have  been  the 
hero  of  such  an  occasion  ;  but  it  was  very  plain  that  Perry  was  neither 
proud  nor  anything  like  happy.  No  one  had  ever  known  him  so  silent 
and  cast  down.  The  talk  with  Lawrence  had  helped  matters  very 
little. 

In  brief,  this  was  about  all  the  captain  could  tell  him,  and  it  was 
all  hearsay  evidence  at  best.  The  officers  of  the  Eleventh  and  their 
ladies  had,  with  a  few  exceptions,  taken  a  dislike  to  Dr.  Quin  before 
Belknap  and  Lawrence  with  their  companies  of  infantry  had  been 
ordered  to  Fort  Rossiter.  The  feeling  was  in  full  blast  when  they  ar 
rived,  and  during  the  six  or  eight  months  they  served  there  together 
the  infantry  people  heard  only  one  side  of  the  story, — that  of  the 
Eleventh, — for  the  doctor  never  condescended  to  discuss  the  matter. 
After  he  was  forbidden  to  leave  the  post  by  his  commanding  officer, 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  235 

and  after  the  announcement  of  the  "  blockade"  of  Dunraven,  it  was 
observed  that  signals  were  sometimes  made  from  the  ranch  at  night : 
a  strong  light  thrown  from  a  reflector  was  flashed  three  times  and  then 
withdrawn.  Next  it  was  noted,  by  an  enterprising  member  of  the 
guard,  that  these  signals  were  answered  by  a  light  in  the  doctor's 
windows,  then  that  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away  down  the  valley 
of  the  Monee.  He  was  always  back  at  sick-call ;  and,  if  any  one  told 
the  commanding  officer  of  his  disobedience  of  orders,  it  was  not  done 
until  so  near  the  departure  of  the  Eleventh  that  the  doctor  was  not 
afterwards  actually  caught  in  the  act.  Things  would  undoubtedly  have 
been  brought  to  a  crisis  had  the  Eleventh  been  allowed  to  remain. 

Now  as  to  the  story  about  Mrs.  Quin  and  her  going.  It  was 
observed  during  the  winter  that  she  was  looking  very  badly,  and  the 
story  went  the  rounds  in  the  Eleventh  that  she  was  stung  and  suffering 
because  of  her  husband's  conduct.  Unquestionably  there  was  some 
fair  enchantress  at  Dunraven  who  lured  him  from  his  own  fireside. 
She  had  no  intimates  among  the  ladies.  She  was  proud  and  silent.  It 
did  not  seem  to  occur  to  them  that  she  was  resentful  of  their  dislike  of 
her  husband.  They  were  sure  she  was  "  pining"  because  of  his  neglect 
— or  worse.  When,  therefore,  without  word  of  warning,  she  suddenly 
took  her  departure  in  the  spring,  there  was  a  gasp  of  gossip-loving 
cronies  in  the  garrison :  all  doubts  were  at  an  end :  she  had  left  him 
and  taken  her  children  with  her. 

"  The  more  I  think  of  it,"  said  Lawrence,  "  the  more  I  believe  the 
whole  thing  capable  of  explanation.  The  only  thing  that  puzzles  me 
now  is  that  Quin  hides  anything  from  your  colonel,  who  is  one  of  the 
most  courteous  and  considerate  men  I  ever  served  with.  Perhaps  he 
has  told  him,  by  this  time :  we  don't  know.  Perhaps  he  thought  he 
might  be  of  the  same  stamp  as  his  predecessor,  and  was  waiting  to  find 
out  before  he  made  his  confidences.  As  to  Mrs.  Quin's  going  away 
when  she  did,  it  may  have  been  simply  that  her  health  was  suffering, 
she  needed  change,  and  went  with  his  full  advice  and  by  his  wish,  and 
he  simply  feels  too  much  contempt  for  garrison  gossip  to  explain.  Very 
probably  he  knows  nothing  of  the  stories  and  theories  in  circulation : 
I'm  sure  I  did  not  until  a  very  few  weeks  ago.  You  know,  Perry, 
there  are  some  men  in  garrison  who  hear  and  know  everything,  and 
others  who  never  hear  a  word  of  scandal." 

But  Perry  was  low  in  his  mind.  He  could  not  forget  Quin's  sudden 
appearance, — his  calling  her  Gladys;  and  then  he  hated  the  thought 


236  DUNEAVEN  RANCH. 

that  it  was  Quin  who  saw  him  having  that  confounded  tender  inter 
view  with  Mrs.  Belknap.  AVas  there  ever  such  a  streak  of  ill  luck  as 
that  ?  No  doubt  the  fellow  had  told  her  all  about  it !  Perry  left  Law 
rence's  that  night  very  little  comforted,  and  only  one  gleam  of  hope 
did  he  receive  in  the  two  days  that  followed.  Mrs.  Sprague  joyfully 
beckoned  to  him  on  Wednesday  afternoon  to  read  him  a  little  note  that 
had  just  come  from  Miss  Maitland.  Her  father  had  been  very  ill,  she 
wrote ;  his  condition  was  still  critical ;  but  she  sent  a  world  of  thanks 
to  her  kind  entertainers  at  Rossiter,  and  these  words  :  "  I  was  sorry 
not  to  be  able  to  see  Mr.  Perry  again.  Do  not  let  him  think  I  have 
forgotten,  or  will  be  likely  to  forget,  the  service  he — and  Nolan — did 
me." 

Of  Dr.  Quin  he  saw  very  little.  AYith  the  full  consent  and 
knowledge  of  Colonel  Brainard,  the  doctor  was  spending  a  good  deal 
of  time  at  Dunraven  now,  attending  to  Mr.  Maitland.  Indeed,  there 
seemed  to  be  an  excellent  understanding  between  the  commandant  and 
his  medical  officer,  and  it  was  known  that  they  had  had  a  long  talk 
together.  Upper  circles  in  the  garrison  were  still  agitated  with  chat 
and  conjecture  about  Gladys  Maitland  and  her  strange  father;  Perry 
was  still  tortured  with  questions  about  his  one  visit  to  Dunraven  when 
ever  he  was  so  incautious  as  to  appear  in  public ;  but  all  through  "  the 
quarters,"  everywhere  among  the  rank  and  file,  there  was  a  subject  that 
engrossed  all  thoughts  and  tongues,  and  that  was  discussed  with  feeling 
that  seemed  to  deepen  with  every  day, — the  approaching  court-martial 
of  Sergeant  Leary  and  of  Trooper  Kelly. 

As  a  result  of  his  investigation,  Captain  Stryker  had  preferred 
charges  against  these  two  men, — the  one  for  leading  and  the  other  for 
being  accessory  to  the  assault  on  his  stable-sergeant.  Gwynne  was  still 
at  the  hospital,  though  rapidly  recovering  from  his  injuries.  Not  a 
word  had  he  said  that  would  implicate  or  accuse  any  man  ;  but  Stryker's 
knowledge  of  his  soldiers,  and  his  clear  insight  into  human  motive  and 
character,  were  such  that  he  had  readily  made  up  his  mind  as  to  the 
facts  in  the  case.  He  felt  sure  that  Leary  and  some  of  the  Celtic 
members  of  his  company  had  determined  to  go  down  to  Dunraven  and 
"  have  it  out"  with  the  hated  Britons  who  had  so  affronted  and  abused 
them  the  night  of  Perry's  visit.  They  knew  they  could  not  get  their 
horses  by  fair  means,  for  Gwynne  was  above  suspicion.  He  was 
English,  too,  and  striving  to  shield  his  countrymen  from  the  threatened 
vengeance.  They  therefore  determined,  in  collusion  with  Kelly,  to 


DUNEAVEN  RANCH,  237 

lure  him  outside  the  stables,  bind  and  gag  him,  get  their  horses,  having 
once  rifled  Gwynne  of  the  keys,  ride  down  to  the  ranch,  and,  after 
having  a  Donnybrook  Fair  on  the  premises,  get  back  to  Rossiter  in 
plenty  of  time  for  reveille  and  stables.  No  sentries  were  posted  in 
such  a  way  as  to  interfere  with  them,  and  the  plan  was  feasible  enough 
but  for  one  thing.  Gwynne  had  made  most  gallant  and  spirited  resist 
ance,  had  fought  the  whole  gang  like  a  tiger,  and  they  had  been  unable 
to  overpower  him  before  the  noise  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
sergeant  of  the  guard  and  some  of  the  men  in  quarters.  An  effort, 
of  course,  was  made  to  show  that  the  assaulting  party  were  from  with 
out,  but  it  was  futile,  and  Stryker's  keen  cross-questioning  among  the 
men  had  convinced  them  that  he  knew  all  about  the  matter.  There 
was  only  one  conclusion,  therefore, — that  Gwynne  must  have  "  given 
them  away,"  as  the  troopers  expressed  it.  Despite  the  fact  that  he  had 
been  assaulted  and  badly  beaten,  this  was  something  that  few  could  over 
look,  and  the  latent  jealousy  against  the  "cockney  sergeant"  blazed 
into  a  feeling  of  deep  resentment.  Garrison  sympathy  was  with  Leary 
and  his,  fellows  :  they  had  simply  done  their  best  to  wipe  out  a  brutal 
insult  to  their  officer  and  their  regiment,  and  they  would  have  succeeded, 
too,  but  for  the  interference  and  stubborn  resistance  of  this  bumptious 
Englishman.  It  arrayed  all  the  rank  and  file  of  the  — th  for  the  de 
fence,  and  there  was  every  prospect  that  when  the  court  convened — and 
they  well  knew  it  would  be  ordered — there  would  be  some  "  tall  swear- 
ing." 

Thursday  came,  and  Sergeant  Gwynne  returned  to  light  duty, 
though  his  face  was  still  bruised  and  discolored  and  he  wore  a  patch 
over  one  eye.  He  resumed  charge  of  the  stables  in  the  afternoon,  after 
a  brief  conversation  with  his  captain,  and  was  superintending  the  issue 
of  forage,  when  Perry  entered  to  inspect  the  stalls  of  his  platoon. 
Ntlan  was  being  led  out  by  his  groom  at  the  moment,  and  pricked  up 
his  tapering  ears  at  sight  of  his  master  and  thrust  his  lean  muzzle  to 
receive  the  caress  of  the  hand  he  knew  so  well.  Perry  stopped  him 
and  carefully  and  critically  examined  his  knees,  feeling  down  to  the 
fetlocks  with  searching  fingers  for  the  faintest  symptom  of  knot  or 
swelling  in  the  tendons  that  had  played  their  part  so  thoroughly  in  the 
drama  of  Monday.  Satisfied,  apparently,  he  rose  and  bestowed  a  few 
hearty  pats  on  the  glossy  neck  and  shoulder,  and  then  was  surprised  to 
find  the  stable-sergeant  standing  close  beside  him  and  regarding  both 


238  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

him  and  the  horse  with  an  expression  that  arrested  Perry's  attention 
at  once. 

"Feeling  all  right  again,  sergeant?"  he  asked,  thinking  to  recall 
the  non-commissioned  officer  to  his  senses. 

"  Almost,  sir.  I'm  a  trifle  stiff  yet.  Anything  wrong  with  Nolan, 
sir?" 

"  Nothing.  I  gave  him  rather  a  tough  run  the  other  day, — had  to 
risk  the  prairie-dog  holes, — and,  though  I  felt  no  jar  then,  I've  watched 
carefully  ever  since  to  see  that  he  was  not  wrenched.  I  wish  you  would 
keep  an  eye  on  him  too,  will  you  ?" 

There  was  no  answer.  Perry  had  been  looking  over  Nolan's 
haunches  as  he  spoke,  and  once  more  turned  to  the  sergeant.  To  his 
astonishment,  Gwynne's  lips  were  twitching  and  quivering,  his  hands, 
ordinarily  held  in  the  rigid  pose  of  the  English  service, — extended 
along  the  thigh, — were  clinching  and  working  nervously,  and  some 
thing  suspiciously  like  a  tear  was  creeping  out  from  under  the  patch. 
Before  Perry  could  recover  from  his  surprise,  the  sergeant  suddenly 
regained  his  self-control,  hastily  raised  his  hand  in  salute,  saying  some 
thing  half  articulate  in  reply,  and  turned  sharply  away,  leaving  his 
lieutenant  gazing  after  him  in  much  perplexity. 

That  night,  just  after  tattoo  roll-call,  when  a  little  group  of  officers 
was  gathered  at  the  colonel's  gate,  they  were  suddenly  joined  by  Dr. 
Quiu,  who  came  from  the  direction  of  the  stable  where  he  kept  his 
horse  in  rear  of  his  own  quarters.  Colonel  Brainard  greeted  him 
warmly  and  inquired  after  his  patient  at  Dunraven.  Every  one  noted 
how  grave  and  subdued  was  the  tone  in  which  the  doctor  answered, — 

"  He  is  a  very  sick  man,  colonel,  and  it  is  hard  to  say  what  will  be 
the  result  of  this  seizure." 

"  You  may  want  to  go  down  again,  doctor,  if  that  be  the  case, — 
before  sick-call  to-morrow,  I  mean  ;  and  you  had  better  take  one  of 
my  horses.  I'll  tell  my  man  to  have  one  in  readiness." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  sir.  I  think  old  Brian  will  do  all  the  work 
needed.  But  I  would  like  to  go  down  at  reveille,  as  we  have  no  men 
in  hospital  at  all  now.  And,  by  the  way,  is  Mr.  Perry  here?" 

"  I  am  here,"  answered  Perry,  coldly.  He  was  leaning  against  the 
railing,  rather  away  from  the  group,  listening  intently,  yet  unwilling 
to  meet  or  hold  conversation  with  the  man  he  conceived  to  be  so  inim 
ical  to  his  every  hope  and  interest. 

"  Mr.  Perry,"  said  the  doctor,  pleasantly,  and  utterly  ignoring  the 


D  UNEA  YEN  RANCH.  239 

coldness  of  the  young  fellow's  manner,  "  Mr.  Maitland  has  asked  to  see 
you  ;  and  it  would  gratify  him  if  you  would  ride  down  in  the  morning." 

Even  in  the  darkness  Perry  feared  that  all  would  see  the  flush  that 
leaped  to  his  face.  Summoned  to  Dunraven  Ranch,  by  her  father,  with 
a  possibility  of  seeing  her!  It  was  almost  too  sweet!  too  thrilling! 
He  could  give  no  reply  for  a  moment,  and  an  awkward  silence  fell  on 
the  group  until  he  chokingly  answered,  "  I  shall  be  glad  to  go.  What 
time  ?" 

"  Better  ride  down  early.  Never  mind  breakfast.  Miss  Maitland 
will  be  glad  to  give  you  a  cup  of  coifee,  I  fancy." 

And  Perry  felt  as  though  the  fence  had  taken  to  waltzing.  He 
made  no  answer,  striving  to  regain  his  composure,  and  then  the  talk 
went  on.  It  was  Stryker  who  was  speaking  now  : 

"  Has  the  ring  been  found,  doctor  ?" 

"  No !  That  is  a  most  singular  thing,  and  one  that  worries  the  old 
gentleman  a  great  deal.  It  had  a  history :  it  belonged  to  Mrs.  Mait- 
land's  father,  who  was  from  Ireland, — indeed,  Ireland  was  her  country, 
as  it  was  my  father's, — and  that  ring  she  had  reset  for  her  son  Archie 
and  gave  it  to  him  when  he  entered  service  with  the  Lancers.  It  was 
sent  home  with  his  watch  and  other  property  from  South  Africa, — for 
he  died  there, — and  old  Maitland  always  wore  it  afterwards.  Archie 
was  the  last  of  three  sons ;  and  it  broke  his  heart." 

"  And  the  ring  was  lost  the  night  of  Perry's  adventure  there  ?" 
asked  the  colonel. 

"  Yes.  Mr.  Perry  remembers  having  seen  it  on  his  hand  when  the 
old  gentleman  first  came  down  to  receive  him.  It  was  missed  after 
wards,  and  could  easily  have  slipped  off  at  any  time,  for  his  fingers 
were  withered  with  age  and  ill  health.  They  have  searched  everywhere, 
and  could  find  nothing  of  it.  It  could  easily  have  rolled  off  the 
veranda  on  to  the  grass  during  his  excitement  at  the  time  of  the  row, 
and  somebody  may  have  picked  it  up, — either  among  the  ranchmen  or 
among  the  troopers." 

"I  hate  to  think  that  any  of  our  men  would  take  it,"  said  the 
colonel,  after  a  pause. 

"  I  do  not  think  any  of  them  would,  with  the  idea  of  selling  it," 
said  Stryker ;  "  but  here  is  a  case  where  it  was  picked  up,  possibly,  as 
one  of  the  spoils  of  war.  I  have  had  inquiry  made  throughout  the 
troop,  but  with  no  result  so  far.  Do  you  go  down  again  to-night, 
doctor?" 


240  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

"  Not  if  I  can  avoid  it.  I  am  going  now  to  try  and  sleep,  and  will 
not  ride  down  till  daybreak  unless  signalled  for.  Good-night,  colonel ; 
good-night,  all." 

Unless  signalled  for  !  Instinctively  Perry  edged  closer  to  Lawrence, 
who  had  stood  a  silent  listener  to  the  conversation,  and  Lawrence  turned 
and  saw  him  and  knew  the  thought  that  must  be  uppermost  in  his 
mind.  Others,  too,  were  doubtless  struck  by  the  doctor's  closing  words, 
and  were  pondering  over  their  full  significance.  There  was  a  moment 
of  perfect  silence,  and  then  Lawrence  spoke : 

"  Does  anybody  know  what  the  signal  is  ?" 

"Certainly,"  said  Colonel  Brainard,  promptly.  "He  has  explained 
the  whole  thing  to  me.  Those  were  signals  for  him  that  we  saw  the 
night  you  were  all  on  my  gallery.  It  was  an  arrangement  devised  by 
their  old  nurse, — she  who  came  up  with  the  carriage  for  Miss  Maitland 
the  other  day.  She  had  a  regular  old-fashioned  head-light  and  reflector, 
and,  when  Mr.  Maitland  was  so  ill  as  to  need  a  doctor,  used  to  notify 
Quin  in  that  way.  He  sometimes  failed  to  see  it,  and  I  have  given 
orders  to-day  that  the  guard  should  wake  him  when  it  is  seen  here 
after." 

"Then  that  was  what  those  mysterious  night  lights  meant  that 
we  have  heard  so  much  about  during  the  last  three  weeks?"  asked 
Mr.  Dana. 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Brainard.  "  What  on  earth  did  anybody 
suppose  they  meant  ?" 

To  this  there  was  no  response  for  a  moment.  Then  Lawrence  burst 
out  laughing. 

XVI. 

Late  that  night  Mr.  Perry  left  his  quarters  and  strolled  out  on  the 
walk  that  bounded  the  parade.  He  could  not  sleep  ;  he  was  feverishly 
impatient  for  the  coming  of  another  day,  that  he  might  start  forth  on 
his  ride  to  Dunraven.  Few  as  were  the  words  in  which  Dr.  Quin  had 
conveyed  the  message  of  invitation,  they  were  sufficient  to  set  his  heart 
athrob  and  his  pulses  bounding  with  eagerness  and  delight.  Then,  too, 
the  annihilation  of  one  portion,  at  least,  of  the  "  mystery"  that  sur 
rounded  the  doctor's  night  visits  to  Dunraven,  the  utterly  matter-of- 
fact  way  in  which  the  colonel  had  shattered  that  story  by  his  announce 
ment,  and  the  kind  and  friendly  tone  in  which  the  doctor  had  spoken 
to  him,  all  had  served  to  bring  about  a  revulsion  of  feeling  and  to 


DUNEAVEN  RANCH.  241 

remove  a  great  portion  of  the  weight  of  suspicion  and  dread  with  which 
he  had  been  burdened.  He  and  Lawrence  had  walked  home  together, 
the  captain  ever  and  anon  bursting  into  renewed  peals  of  laughter  over 
the  utterly  absurd  denouement  so  recently  presented  to  their  view.  The 
colonel  and  the  officers  with  him  had,  of  course,  asked  the  cause  of  his 
sudden  and  apparently  unaccountable  merriment,  and,  when  he  could 
sufficiently  control  himself,  Lawrence  had  begged  the  indulgence  of  his 
post  commander,  saying  it  involved  a  long  story, — a  garrison  yarn,  in 
fact, — and  one  he  could  hardly  retail  just  then ;  but,  said  he,  "  it  re 
minds  me  of  something  we  studied  in  our  school-boy  days, — l parturiunt 
monies,'  and  '  nascitur  ridiculus  mus.'  Of  course  I'll  feel  bound  to  tell 
you  the  facts,  colonel,  but  I  want  to  ask  a  question  or  two  first.  The 
story  is  a  relic  of  your  predecessor's,  sir,  and,  if  I  haven't  got  a  big 
joke  on  the  Eleventh,  may  I  be  transferred  to  them  forthwith."  And 
the  captain's  laughter  broke  forth  again. 

But  he  was  in  more  serious  mood  when  he  reached  his  gate  and 
turned  to  say  good-night  to  Perry : 

"  It  ,all  goes  to  show  what  infernal  gossip  can  spring  up  out  of  next 
to  nothing,  Perry,  and  I  hope  you'll  try  and  forget  that  Mrs.  Lawrence's 
curiosity  or  womanly  weakness  got  the  better  of  her  that  night  at  the 
colonel's.  It  will  be  a  lesson  to  her, — if  people  ever  do  profit  by  lessons 
in  such  matters,"  he  added,  with  rather  a  rueful  smile. 

And  then,  though  he  had  gone  home  with  lighter  heart  and  ashamed 
of  his  jealous  suspicions,  Perry  could  not  sleep.  There  were  still  some 
things  in  Quin's  relations  with  the  Maitlands  that  required  explanation 
and  that  gave  him  cause  for  painful  reflection.  The  morrow  might  un 
ravel  it  all  and  give  him  glad  relief  from  every  dread ;  but  would  the 
morrow  never  come? 

He  heard  the  sentries  at  the  storehouses  calling  half-past  eleven, 
and,  throwing  aside  his  pipe,  he  impulsively  hurried  out  into  the  open 
air.  A  "  spin"  around  the  parade  or  out  on  the  starlit  prairie  might 
soothe  his  nerves  and  enable  him  to  sleep. 

All  lights  were  out  in  the  quadrangle,  save  those  at  the  guard-house. 
Even  at  Belknap's  quarters,  where  the  veranda  had  been  thronged  with 
officers  and  ladies  only  an  hour  before,  all  was  now  silence  and  dark 
ness.  Unwilling  to  attract  attention  by  tramping  up  and  down  on  the 
board  walk,  he  crossed  the  road  and  went  out  on  the  broad  level  of  the 
parade,  but  took  care  so  to  direct  his  steps  as  not  to  come  within  bailing- 
distance  of  the  guard-house.  It  would  be  awkward  work  explaining  the 
L  21 


242  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

situation  to  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  in  case  the  sentry  were  to  see  01 
hear  and  challenge  him.  Then,  too,  Graham  was  officer  of  the  guard, 
and  Graham  would  be  sure  to  chaif  him  mercilessly  at  the  mess-table 
about  this  entirely  new  trait  of  night-prowling.  Giving  heed  to  all 
this,  he  edged  well  over  to  his  left  as  he  walked,  and  so  it  happened 
that  he  found  himself,  after  a  while,  opposite  the  northeast  entrance  to 
the  post,  and  close  to  the  road  on  which  stood  the  commissary  and 
quartermaster  storehouses.  There  was  a  sentry  posted  here,  too,  and  it 
would  not  do  to  be  challenged  by  him,  any  more  than  by  "  Number 
One." 

Stopping  a  moment  to  listen  for  the  sentry's  foot-fall,  Perry's  ear 
was  attracted  by  the  sound  of  a  door  slowly  and  cautiously  opened.  It 
was  some  little  time  before  he  could  tell  from  which  one  of  the  neighbor 
ing  buildings,  looming  there  in  the  darkness,  the  sound  proceeded.  Then 
he  heard  muffled  footsteps  and  a  whispered  consultation  not  far  away, 
and,  hurrying  on  tiptoe  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  he  presently 
caught  sight  of  two  or  three  dim,  shadowy  forms  moving  noiselessly 
along  the  porch  of  the  company  quarters  nearest  him.  Stryker's  troop 
— that  to  which  he  belonged — was  quartered  down  beyond  the  guard 
house  on  the  lower  side  of  the  parade ;  these  forms  were  issuing  from 
the  barracks  of  Captain  Wayne's  troop,  and  before  Perry  could  realize 
the  fact  that  they  were  out,  either  in  moccasins  or  their  stocking-feet, 
and  presumably,  therefore,  on  some  unlawful  enterprise,  they  had  dis 
appeared  around  the  corner  of  the  building.  He  walked  rapidly  thither, 
turned  the  corner,  and  they  were  nowhere  in  sight  or  hearing.  Stop 
ping  to  listen  did  not  help  matters  at  all.  He  could  not  hear  a  sound ; 
and  as  for  the  shadows  of  which  he  was  in  pursuit,  it  was  simply  im 
possible  to  tell  which  direction  they  had  taken.  They  had  vanished 
from  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  were  lost  in  the  deeper  gloom  that  hung 
about  the  scattered  array  of  wooden  buildings — storehouses,  fuel-sheds, 
and  cook-sheds — at  the  rear  of  the  post. 

Had  it  been  his  own  troop  he  could  have  roused  the  first  sergeant 
and  ordered  a  "  check"  roll-call  as  a  means  of  determining  at  once  who 
the  night-prowlers  might  be ;  but  Captain  Wayne  had  his  peculiarities, 
and  one  of  them  was  an  unalterable  and  deeply-rooted  objection  to  any 
interference  on  the  part  of  other  officers  in  the  management  of  his  men. 
Perry's  first  thought,  too,  was  of  the  stables  and  Sergeant  Gwynne. 
Were  they  meditating  another  foray,  and  had  the  feeling  spread  outside 
their  own  company  ?  No  time  was  to  be  lost.  He  turned  his  face  east- 


DUNEAVEN  RANCH.  243 

ward  to  where  the  dark  outlines  of  the  stables  could  be  dimly  traced 
against  the  sky,  and  hastened,  stumbling  at  times  over  stray  tin  cans 
and  other  discarded  rubbish,  until  he  crossed  the  intervening  swale  and 
reached  the  low  bluff  along  which  the  crude,  unpainted  structures  were 
ranged.  All  was  darkness  here  towards  the  northern  end,  and  the  one 
sentry  who  had  external  charge  of  the  entire  line  was  slowly  pacing  his 
post :  Perry  could  see  his  form,  dimly  outlined,  as  he  breasted  the  slope, 
and  it  determined  him  to  keep  on  in  the  hollow  until  he  got  to  a  point 
opposite  the  stables  of  his  own  troop.  If  there  was  to  be  any  devil 
ment  it  might  be  well  to  see  whether  this  soldier,  too,  would  turn  out 
to  be  in  league  with  the  conspirators.  Listening  intently  as  he  hurried 
along,  but  hearing  nothing,  Perry  soon  found  himself  at  the  pathway 
leading  to  his  own  domain,  and  the  next  minute  was  gazing  in  surprise 
at  a  light  burning  dimly  in  the  window  of  the  little  room  occupied  by 
Sergeant  Gwynne :  there  was  not  a  glimmer  elsewhere  along  the  line. 

Striding  up  to  the  window,  he  tapped  lightly,  and  G Wynne's  voice 
sternly  challenged  from  within,  "  Who's  there  ?" 

"  Lieutenant  Perry,  sergeant.  Come  around  and  open  the  stable 
door  for  me." 

"One  moment,  sir,"  was  the  answer,  and  he  heard  the  sergeant 
bounding,  apparently,  off  his  bed.  Then  a  hand  drew  aside  the  shade, 
and  Gwynne's  face  appeared  at  the  window,  while  a  small  lantern  was 
held  so  as  to  throw  its  rays  on  the  face  without.  "  All  right,  sir,"  he 
continued.  "  I  thought  I  could  not  be  deceived  in  the  voice." 

Perry  walked  around  to  the  front  again,  taking  another  survey  of 
the  sleeping  garrison  as  he  did  so,  and  listening  once  more  for  footsteps  ; 
but  all  was  still.  Presently  the  little  panel  in  the  big  door  was  un 
locked  from  within,  and  the  lieutenant  bent  low  and  entered,  finding 
Gwynne,  lantern  in  hand,  standing  in  his  uncompromising  attitude  of 
"  attention"  at  the  entrance. 

"  Everything  been  quiet  here  to-night  ?"  he  asked,  as  he  straightened 
up. 

"  Perfectly  so,  sir." 

"  Come  into  your  room  a  moment ;  I  want  to  speak  to  you,"  said 
Perry,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 

They  passed  along  the  broad  gangway  between  the  rows  of  sleepy 
horses,  some  lying  down  in  their  stalls,  others  still  afoot  and  munching 
at  their  hay.  The  stable-guard  stood  at  his  post  and  faced  them  as 
they  turned  into  the  dark  and  narrow  passage  leading  into  Gwynne's 


244  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

little  sanctuary.  The  lamps  along  the  line  of  stalls  burned  low  and 
dim,  and,  the  ports  being  lowered,  gave  no  gleam  without  the  walls. 
Once  more,  however,  a  bright  light  shone  from  the  window  of  the 
stable-sergeant's  room, — brighter  than  before,  could  they  only  know  it, 
for  this  time  there  was  no  intervening  shade.  After  his  brief  inspection 
of  the  lieutenant's  face,  Gwynne  had  left  it  drawn. 

The  sergeant  set  his  lantern  on  a  wooden  desk,  and  respectfully 
waited  for  his  superior  to  speak.  Perry  looked  him  well  over  a  moment, 
and  then  began : 

"  Did  you  tell  Captain  Stryker  the  particulars  of  your  rough  treat 
ment  down  there  at  the  ranch  ?" 

"  The  rough  treatment, — yes,  sir." 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  where  you  were  taken  ? — where  you 
saw  Dr.  Quin?" 

The  sergeant  hesitated  one  moment,  a  troubled  look  on  his  face. 
His  one  available  eye  studied  his  lieutenant's  features  attentively. 
Something  in  the  frank,  kind  blue  eyes — possibly  some  sudden  recol 
lection,  too — seemed  to  reassure  him. 

"  It  was  to  Mr.  Cowan's  little  house,  sir.  He  interposed  to  save 
me  from  a  worse  beating  at  the  hands  of  three  brutes  who  were  em 
ployed  there  and  had  some  grudge  against  this  garrison  of  which  I  was 
ignorant.  They  attacked  me  without  a  word  of  warning.  It  was  he, 
too,  who  called  in  Dr.  Quin." 

"  Have  you — did  you  see  any  of  the  people  at  Dunraven  besides 
this  young  man  ?" 

"  I  saw  his  mother,  sir.  She  is  a  nurse  there,  and  has  been  in  the 
family  for  years,  I  am  told." 

Perry  was  silent  a  moment.     Then  he  spoke  again  : 

"  Have  you  heard  any  further  threats  among  the  men  here  since  the 
arrest  of  Sergeant  Leary  ?" 

Gwynne  hesitated,  coloring  painfully  : 

"  It  is  something  I  hate  to  speak  of,  sir.  The  talk  has  not  alarmed 
me  in  the  least." 

"  I  know  that,  sergeant.  All  the  same  we  want  to  prevent  a  recur 
rence  of  that  performance ;  and  it  was  that,  mainly,  that  brought  me 
over  here.  I  saw  some  men  stealing  out  of  M  Troop's  quarters  awhile 
ago,  and  lost  them  in  the  darkness.  I  thought  they  might  be  coming 
over  here,  and—  -got  here  first." 


DUNE  A  YEN  RANCH.  245 

Gwynne's  face  lighted  up.  It  touched  him  to  know  his  officers 
were  on  the  lookout  for  his  safety. 

"  I  have  heard  nothing,  sir.  The  men  would  hardly  be  apt  to 
Bpeak  to  me  on  the  subject,  since  the  affair  of  the  other  night.  What 
I  fear  is  simply  this, — that  there  is  an  element  here  in  the  regiment 
that  is  determined  to  get  down  there  to  the  ranch  and  have  satisfaction 
for  the  assault  that  was  made  on  you  and  your  party.  They  need 
horses  in  order  to  get  there  and  back  between  midnight  and  reveille, 
and  are  doubtless  hatching  some  plan.  They  failed  here ;  now  they 
may  try  the  stables  of  some  other  troop,  or  the  quartermaster's.  Shall 
I  warn  the  sentry  that  there  are  prowlers  out  to-night  ?" 

"  Not  yet.  They  will  hardly  make  the  attempt  while  your  light  is 
burning  here.  What  I'm  concerned  about  just  now  is  this :  we  all 
know  that  there  is  deep  sympathy  for  Leary  in  the  command,  and  it  is 
not  improbable  that  among  the  Irishmen  there  is  corresponding  feeling 
against  you.  I  don't  like  your  being  here  alone  just  now ;  for  they 
know  you  are  almost  the  only  witness  against  him." 

"  J  have  thought  of  that,  sir,"  answered  Gwynne,  gravely,  "  but  I 
want  nothing  that  looks  like  protection.  The  captain  has  spoken  of 
the  matter  to  me,  and  he  agreed,  sir,  that  it  would  do  more  harm  than 
good.  There  is  one  thing  I  would  ask, — if  I  may  trouble  the  lieu 
tenant." 

"What  is  it,  sergeant?" 

"I  have  a  little  packet,  containing  some  papers  and  a  trinket  or 
two,  that  I  would  like  very  much  to  have  kept  safely,  and,  if  anything 
should  happen  to  me,  to  have  you,  sir,  and  Captain  Stryker  open  it, 
and — the  letters  there  will  explain  everything  that  is  to  be  done." 

"  Certainly.     I  will  take  care  of  it  for  you, — if  not  too  valuable." 

"  I  would  rather  know  it  was  with  you,  sir,  than  stow  it  in  the 
quartermaster's  safe,"  was  Gwynne's  answer,  as  he  opened  a  little  wooden 
chest  at  the  foot  of  his  bunk,  and,  after  rummaging  a  moment,  drew 
forth  a  parcel  tied  and  sealed.  This  he  handed  to  the  lieutenant. 

"  Now  I  will  go  back  and  notify  the  officer  of  the  guard  of  what  I 
have  seen,"  said  Perry ;  "  and  I  want  Nolan,  saddled,  over  at  my 
quarters  right  after  morning  stables.  Will  you  see  to  it?" 

"  I  will,  sir,  and  thank  you  for  your  kindness." 

All  was  darkness,  all  silence  and  peace,  as  Perry  retraced  his  steps 
and  went  back  to  the  garrison,  carrying  the  little  packet  in  his  hand. 

21* 


246  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

He  went  direct  to  the  guard-house,  and  found  Mr.  Graham  sulky  over 
being  disturbed  in  his  snooze  by  the  sentry's  challenge. 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  owling  around  this  time  of  night  for  ?" 
was  the  not  unnatural  question.  "  I  thought  it  was  the  officer  of  the 
day,  and  nearly  broke  my  neck  in  hurrying  out  here." 

But  Perry's  brief  recital  of  the  fact  that  he  had  seen  some  men 
stealing  out  of  the  quarters  of  M  Troop  in  their  stocking-feet  or  moc- 
casins  put  an  end  to  Graham's  complaints.  Hastily  summoning  the 
sergeant  of  the  guard,  he  started  out  to  make  the  rounds  of  his  sentries, 
while  Perry  carried  his  packet  home,  locked  it  in  his  desk,  and  then 
returned  to  the  veranda  to  await  developments. 

Sergeant  Gwynne,  meantime,  having  lighted  his  young  officer  to 
the  stable  door,  stood  there  a  few  moments,  looking  over  the  silent 
garrison  and  listening  to  the  retreating  footsteps.  The  sentry  came 
pacing  along  the  front  of  the  stables,  and  brought  his  carbine  down 
from  the  shoulder  as  he  dimly  sighted  the  tall  figure,  but,  recognizing 
the  stable-sergeant  as  he  came  nearer,  the  ready  challenge  died  on  his 
lips. 

"  I  thougJd  I  heard  somebody  moving  around  down  here,  sergeant. 
It  was  you,  then,  was  it  ?" 

"  I  have  been  moving  around, — inside, — but  made  no  noise.  Have 
you  heard  footsteps  or  voices  ?" 

"  Both,  I  thought ;  but  it's  as  black  as  your  hat  on  this  beat  to-night. 
I  can't  see  my  hand  afore  my  face." 

"  Keep  your  ears  open,  then :  there  are  men  out  from  one  of  the 
quarters,  at  least,  and  no  telling  what  they  are  up  to.  Who's  in  charge 
at  the  quartermaster's  stables  ?" 

"  Sergeant  Riley,  of  the  infantry ;  some  of  the  fellers  were  over 
having  a  little  game  with  him  before  tattoo,  and  I  heard  him  tell  'em 
to  come  again  when  they  had  more  money  to  lose.  He  and  his  helper 
there  were  laughing  at  the  way  they  cleaned  out  the  cavalry  when  they 
were  locking  up  at  taps.  The  boys  fetched  over  a  bottle  of  whiskey 
with  'em." 

"  WTho  were  they  ?" 

"  Oh,  there  was  Flanagan  and  Murphy,  of  M  Troop,  and  Corporal 
Donovan,  and  one  or  two  others.  They  hadn't  been  drinkiu'." 

"  But  Riley  had, — do  you  mean  ?" 

"  He  was  a  little  full ;  not  much." 

"  Well,  look  alive  now,  Wicks.     It's  my  advice  to  you  that  yon 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  247 

watch  that  end  of  your  post  with  all  your  eyes."  And  with  this  Ser 
geant  Gwynne  turned  back  into  the  stable,  picked  up  his  lantern,  and 
returned  to  the  little  room  in  which  he  slept.  A  current  of  cool  night- 
air,  blowing  in  through  the  open  casement,  attracted  his  attention. 
Odd  !  He  knew  he  had  pulled  aside  the  shade  to  scan  the  features  of 
the  lieutenant  when  he  tapped  at  the  pane,  but  he  could  not  recall 
having  opened  the  sash.  It  swung  on  a  hinge,  and  was  fastened  by  a 
loosely-fitting  bolt.  Perhaps  the  rising  wind  had  blown  it  in.  He 
set  his  lamp  down  as  before,  closed  the  sash,  and  then  closed  and  locked 
the  lid  of  his  chest.  That,  too,  was  open.  Wicks,  the  sentry,  well  up 
to  the  north  end  of  his  post  and  close  to  the  entrance  of  the  quarter 
master's  corral,  was  bawling,  "  Half-past  twelve  o'clock,  and  a-all's 
well,"  when  the  light  went  out  in  Gwynne's  little  room,  and  all  the 
line  of  stables  was  wrapped  in  darkness. 

Perry  fretted  around  the  veranda  until  one  o'clock,  then  sought  his 
room.  He  was  still  too  excited  to  sleep,  and  it  seemed  an  interminable 
time  before  he  dozed  off.  Then  it  seemed  as  though  he  could  not  have 
been  in  dream-land  five  minutes  before  a  hand  was  laid  upon  his  shoulder, 
shaking  him  vigorously,  and  a  voice  he  well  knew  was  exclaiming,  in 
low  but  forcible  tones, — 

"  Wake,  lieutenant,  wake  !  Every  horse  is  gone  from  the  quarter 
master's  corral.  There  must  be  twenty  men  gone  down  the  valley. 
I've  Nolan  here  for  you  at  the  gate." 

In  ten  minutes  Lieutenant  Perry  and  Sergeant  Gwynne  were  riding 
neck  and  neck  out  over  the  eastern  prairie, — out  towards  the  paling 
orient  stars  and  the  faintly-gleaming  sky, — before  them,  several  miles 
away,  the  dark  and  threatened  walls  of  Dunraven,  behind  them  the  stir 
and  excitement  and  bustle  consequent  upon  a  night  alarm.  The  colonel, 
roused  by  Perry  with  the  news,  had  ordered  the  instant  sounding  of 
the  assembly,  and  the  garrison  was  tumbling  out  for  roll-call. 

XVII. 

At  the  head  of  a  score  of  his  own  men,  Captain  Stryker  rode  forth 
some  fifteen  minutes  later.  His  orders  from  Colonel  Brainard  were  to 
go  to  Dunraven,  and,  if  he  found  the  marauders  there,  to  arrest  the 
entire  party  and  bring  them  back  to  the  post.  From  all  that  could  be 
learned  from  hurried  questioning  of  the  sentries  and  the  dazed,  half- 
drunken  sergeant  at  the  corral,  the  troopers  engaged  in  the  raid  must 


248  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

have  selected  a  time  when  the  sentry  was  walking  towards  the  south  end 
of  his  post  to  lift  one  of  their  number  over  the  wall  of  the  enclosure 
in  which  were  kept  the  wagons  and  ambulances.  This  man  had  un 
barred  from  within  the  gate  leading  eastward  to  the  trail  down  which 
the  "  stock"  was  driven  daily  to  water  in  the  Monee.  Riley  admitted 
that  "  the  boys"  had  left  a  bottle  with  him  which  he  and  his  assistant 
had  emptied  before  turning  in,  and  so  it  happened  that,  unheard  and 
unseen,  the  raiders  had  managed  to  slip  out  with  the  dozen  horses  that 
were  kept  there  and  had  also  taken  six  mules  as  "  mounts"  for  those 
who  could  not  find  anything  better.  Eighteen  men,  apparently,  were 
in  the  party,  and  the  sentry  on  Number  Three  heard  hoof-beats  down 
towards  the  valley  about  half-past  two  o'clock,  but  thought  it  was  only 
some  of  the  ponies  belonging  to  the  Cheyenne  scouts.  There  was  one 
comfort, — the  men  had  taken  no  fire-arms  with  them ;  for  a  hurried  in 
spection  of  the  company  quarters  showed  that  the  carbines  were  all  in 
their  racks  and  the  revolvers  in  their  cases.  Some  of  the  men  might 
have  small-calibre  pistols  of  their  own,  but  the  government  arms  had 
not  been  disturbed.  Half  the  party,  at  least,  must  have  ridden  bare 
back  and  with  only  watering-bridles  for  their  steeds.  They  were  in 
deed  "  spoiling  for  a  fight,"  and  the  result  of  the  roll-call  showed  that 
the  missing  troopers  were  all  Irishmen  and  some  of  the  best  and  most 
popular  men  in  the  command.  Whatever  their  plan,  thought  Stryker, 
as  he  trotted  down  to  the  Monee,  it  was  probably  carried  out  by  this 
time :  it  was  now  within  a  minute  of  four  o'clock. 

Only  a  mile  out  he  was  overtaken  by  Dr.  Quin,  wrho  reined  up  an 
instant  to  ask  if  any  one  had  been  sent  ahead.  "  Thank  God  for  that !" 
he  exclaimed,  when  told  that  Perry  and  Sergeant  Gwynne  had  gone  at 
the  first  alarm  ;  then,  striking  spurs  to  his  horse,  pushed  on  at  rapid 
gallop,  while  the  troopers  maintained  their  steady  trot.  A  mile  from 
Dunraven,  in  the  dim  light  of  early  morning  the  captain's  keen  eyes 
caught  sight  of  shadowy  forms  of  mounted  men  on  the  opposite  shore, 
and,  despite  their  efforts  to  escape  on  their  wearied  steeds,  three  of  them 
were  speedily  run  down  and  captured.  One  of  them  was  Corporal 
Donovan,  and  Donovan's  face  was  white  and  his  manner  agitated. 
Bidding  him  ride  alongside  as  they  pushed  ahead  towards  the  ranch, 
Stryker  questioned  him  as  to  what  had  taken  place,  and  the  corporal 
never  sought  to  equivocate  : 

"  AVe've  been  trying  for  several  nights,  sir,  to  get  horses  and  go 
down  and  have  it  out  with  those  blackguards  at  the  ranch.  We  took 


D  UXRA  YEN  RANCH.  249 

no  arms,  sir,  even  those  of  us  who  had  pistols  of  our  own.  All  we 
asked  was  a  fair  fight,  man  against  man.  They  wouldn't  come  out 
of  their  hole, — they  dasn't  do  it,  sir, — and  then  they  fired  on  us.  We'd 
have  burned  the  roof  over  their  heads,  but  that  Lieutenant  Perry  gal 
loped  in  and  stopped  us.  I  came  away  then,  sir,  and  so  did  most  of  us. 
We  knew  'twas  all  up  when  we  saw  the  lieutenant ;  but  there  was  more 
firing  after  I  left.  This  way,  captain.  Out  across  the  prairie  here.  We 
cut  down  the  fence  on  this  side."  And,  so  saying,  Donovan  led  the 
little  troop  to  a  broad  gap  in  the  wire  barrier,  and  thence  straight  across 
the  fields  to  where  lights  were  seen  flitting  about  in  the  dark  shadows 
of  the  buildings  of  the  ranch.  Another  moment,  and  Stryker  had  dis 
mounted  and  was  kneeling  beside  the  prostrate  and  unconscious  form 
of  his  lieutenant.  Some  misguided  ranchman,  mistaking  for  a  new 
assailant  the  tall  young  soldier  who  galloped  into  the  midst  of  the 
swarm  of  taunting  Irishmen,  had  fired  the  cruel  shot.  There  lay 
Nolan  dead  upon  the  sward,  and  here,  close  at  hand,  his  grief-stricken 
master  had  finally  swooned  from  loss  of  blood,  the  bullet  having 
pierced  his  leg  below  the  knee.  Beside  him  knelt  the  doctor :  he  had 
cut  away  the  natty  riding-boot,  and  was  rapidly  binding  up  the  wound. 
Close  at  hand  stood  G\vynne,  a  world  of  anxiety  and  trouble  in  his 
bruised  and  still  discolored  face.  Grouped  around  were  some  of  the 
assailing  party,  crestfallen  and  dismayed  at  the  unlooked-for  result  of 
their  foray,  but  ashamed  to  attempt  to  ride  away,  now  that  their 
favorite  young  officer  was  sore  stricken  as  a  result  of  their  mad  folly. 
Mr.  Ewen,  too,  had  come  out,  and  was  bustling  about,  giving  directions 
to  the  one  or  two  of  his  hands  who  had  ventured  forth  from  the  office 
building.  The  big  frame  house  under  whose  walls  the  group  was 
gathered  was  evidently  used  as  a  dormitory  for  a  number  of  men,  and 
this  had  been  the  objective  point  of  the  attack,  but  not  a  soul  had 
issued  from  its  portals  :  the  occupants  were  the  men  who  made  the 
assault  on  Perry  the  night  of  his  first  visit,  and  now  they  deemed  it 
best  to  keep  within.  Everything  indicated  that  Perry  had  got  to  the 
scene  just  in  time  to  prevent  a  bloody  and  desperate  fracas,  for  the  few 
ranch-people  who  appeared  were  still  quivering  with  excitement  and 
dread.  Ewen  was  almost  too  much  agitated  to  speak  : 

•'  Go  to  Mr.  Maitland  as  soon  as  you  can,  doctor :  this  has  given 
liirn  a  fearful  shaking  up.  Mrs.  Cowan  is  having  a  room  made  ready 
for  Mr.  Perry.  Ah  !  here's  young  Cowan  now. — Ready  ?"  he  asked. 

"  All  ready.  Mother  says  carry  the  gentleman  right  in. — She  wants 
L* 


250  DUSRAVEN  RANCH. 

you  to  come  too,"  he  added,  in  lower  tone,  to  Sergeant  Gwynne,  but 
the  latter  made  no  reply. 

And  so,  borne  in  the  arms  of  several  of  his  men,  Lieutenant  Perry 
was  carried  across  the  intervening  space  and  into  the  main  building. 
When  he  recovered  consciousness,  as  the  morning  light  came  through 
the  eastern  windows,  he  found  himself  lying  in  a  white-curtained  bed 
in  a  strange  room,  with  a  strange  yet  kind  and  motherly  face  bending 
over  him,  and  his  captain  smiling  down  into  his  wondering  eyes. 

"  You  are  coming  round  all  right,  old  fellow,"  he  heard  Stryker 
say.  "  I'll  call  the  doctor  now  :  he  wanted  to  see  you  as  soon  as  you 
waked." 

And  then  Quin  came  in  and  said  a  few  cheery  words  and  bade  him 
lie  still  and  worry  about  nothing.  The  row  was  over,  thanks  to  him, 
and  lie  and  poor  Nolan  were  the  only  victims ;  but  it  had  been  a  great 
shock  to  Mr.  Maitland  and  rendered  his  condition  critical. 

Perry  listened  in  silence,  asking  no  questions.  For  the  time  being 
he  could  think  of  nothing  but  Nolan's  loss.  It  was  such  a  cruel  fate  to 
be  killed  by  those  he  came  to  save. 

All  that  day  he  lay  there,  dozing  and  thinking  alternately.  He 
wondered  at  the  tenderness  and  devotion  with  which  the  kind  old 
Englishwoman  nursed  him  and  seemed  to  anticipate  his  every  want. 
Quin  came  in  towards  evening  and  dressed  his  wound,  which  now  began 
to  be  feverish  and  painful.  He  heard  his  colonel's  voice  in  the  hall 
way,  too,  and  heard  him  say  to  the  doctor  that  somebody  at  Rossiter 
was  eager  to  come  down  and  take  care  of  him.  "  Bosh  !"  said  the 
blunt  surgeon;  "I've  a  far  better  nurse  here, — and  a  reserve  to  fall 
back  upon  that  will  be  worth  a  new  life  to  him."  And,  weak  and 
feverish  though  he  was,  Perry's  heart  thrilled  within  him  :  he  wondered 
if  it  could  mean  Gladys.  Two  days  more  he  lay  there,  the  fever  skil 
fully  controlled  by  the  doctor's  ministrations,  and  the  pain  of  his  wound 
subdued  by  Mrs.  Cowan's  cooling  bandages  and  applications.  But 
there  was  a  burning  fever  in  his  heart  that  utterly  refused  to  down. 
He  strained  his  ears  listening  for  the  sound  of  her  voice  or  the  pit-a-pat 
of  her  foot-fall  in  the  corridor.  At  last  he  mustered  courage  and  asked 
for  her,  and  Mrs.  Cowan  smiled  : 

"  Miss  Maitland  has  been  here  three  times  to  inquire  how  you 
were ;  but  it  was  Tvhile  you  were  sleeping,  Mr.  Perry,  and  she  rarely 
leaves  her  father's  bedside.  He  is  very  ill,  and  seems  to  be  growing 
\veaker  every  day.  I  don't  know  what  we  »vould  have  done  if  we  had 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  251 

not  found  Dr.  Quin  here :  he  has  pulled  him  through  two  or  three 
bad  seizures  during  the  past  year." 

"  Where  had  you  known  the  doctor  before?"  asked  Perry,  with  an 
eager  light  in  his  eyes. 

"  Nowhere ;  but  it  was  as  though  one  of  his  own  kith  and  kin  had 
suddenly  appeared  here  to  welcome  Mr.  Maitland.  The  doctor  is  a  first- 
cousin  of  Mrs.  Maitland's  :  she  was  from  Ireland,  and  it  was  from  her 
family  that  the  ranch  was  named.  Lord  Dunraven  is  of  the  peerage  of 
Ireland,  you  know,"  added  Mrs.  Cowan,  with  the  cheerful  confidence 
of  the  Englishwoman  that  every  person  of  any  education  or  standing 
must  be  familiar  with  the  pages  of  Debrett. 

"  How  should  I  know  anything  about  it  ?"  laughed  Perry.  He 
felt  in  merry  mood ;  another  page  in  his  volume  of  suspicion  and  dread 
was  being  torn  away,  and  Quin's  relations  with  the  household  were 
turning  out  to  be  such  as  made  him  an  object  of  lively  interest,  not 
of  jealous  doubt. 

Then  came  callers  from  the  garrison.  It  seemed  as  though  all 
of  a  sudden  the  blockade  had  been  raised  and  that  no  people  were 
so  waVmly  welcomed  at  Dunraven  as  the  very  ones  who  had  been 
especially  proscribed.  Mr.  Maitland,  weak  and  ill  as  he  was,  had 
asked  to  be  allowed  to  see  Colonel  Brainard  on  the  occasion  of  that 
officer's  second  visit ;  Stryker,  Dana,  Graham,  and  Parke  had  all  been 
allowed  to  come  up  and  see  Perry  a  few  moments,  but  Mrs.  Cowan 
was  vigilant  and  remorseless,  would  allow  them  only  a  brief  inter 
view,  and,  with  smiling  determination,  checked  her  patient  when  he 
attempted  to  talk.  The  third  day  of  his  imprisonment  Dr.  Quin  came 
scowling  in  along  in  the  afternoon,  manifestly  annoyed  about  something, 
and  said  a  few  words  in  a  low  tone  to  Mrs.  Cowan,  and  that  usually 
equable  matron  fluttered  away  down-stairs  in  evident  excitement. 

"It's  Mrs.  Belknap,"  explained  the  doctor,  in  answer  to  Perry's 
inquiring  look.  "  She  has  ridden  down  here  with  Dana  and  sent  hei 
card  up  to  Gladys, — who  can't  bear  the  sight  of  her ;  I  don't  know 
why ;  intuition,  I  suppose." 

Presently  Mrs.  Cowan  reappeared  :  "  Miss  Gladys  has  asked  to  Ix 
excused,  as  she  does  not  wish  to  leave  her  father  at  this  moment ;  and 
the  lady  would  like  to  come  up  and  see  Mr.  Perry." 

"Tell  her  no!"  said  Quin,  savagely.  "No, — here:  I'll  go  my 
self."  And  down  went  the  doughty  medical  officer,  and  straightway 
the  rumbling  tones  of  his  harsh  voice  were  heard  below :  the  words 


25'2  DUNE  A  YEN  RANCH. 

were  indistinguishable,  but  Mrs.  Cowan's  face  indicated  that  there  was 
something  in  the  sound  that  gave  her  comfort.  She  stood  at  the 
window  watching  the  pair  as  they  rode  away. 

"  Miss  Gladys  shuddered  when  she  had  to  shake  hands  with  her 
that  day  when  we  came  away  from  Mrs.  Sprague's,"  said  she.  "  I  hope 
that  lady  is  not  a  particular  friend  of  yours,  Mr.  Perry?" 

"•  We  have  been  very  good  friends  indeed,"  said  he,  loyally.  "To 
be  sure,  I  have  hardly  known  Mrs.  Belknap  a  month,  but  both  she 
and  the  captain  have  been  very  kind  to  me."  All  the  same,  down  in 
the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  did  not  wonder  at  Miss  Maitland's  sensa 
tions.  He  was  beginning  to  despair  of  ever  seeing  her,  and  yet  could 
get  no  explanation  that  satisfied  him. 

"  You  know  she  can  walk  only  with  great  pain  and  difficulty  even 
now,"  said  Mrs.  Cowan.  "  Her  ankle  was  very  badly  wrenched,  and  she 
hardly  goes  farther  than  from  her  own  to  her  father's  room.  You  ought 
to  feel  complimented  that  she  has  been  here  to  your  door  three  times." 

"  I  feel  more  like  butting  my  brains  out  for  being  asleep,"  muttered 
Perry  in  reply.  "  I  wish  you  would  wake  me  next  time,  Mrs.  Cowan. 
I  shan't  believe  it  until  I  see  it,  or  hear  her  voice  at  the  door." 

She  had  excused  herself  to  Mrs.  Belknap,  and  the  doctor  had  denied 
that  lovely  woman  her  request  to  be  allowed  to  come  up  and  see  Mr. 
Perry ;  and  yet,  the  very  next  day,  when  the  big  four-mule  ambulance 
from  Rossiter  came  driving  up  to  the  front  door,  and  Mrs.  Sprague  and 
Mrs.  Lawrence,  escorted  by  the  colonel  and  Captain  Stryker,  appeared 
on  the  veranda,  how  did  it  happen  that  the  ladies  were  speedily  ushered 
up-stairs  to  Miss  Maitlaud's  own  room,  and  that,  after  an  animated 
though  low-toned  chat  of  half  an  hour  with  her,  they  were  marshalled 
down  the  long  corridor  by  Mrs.  Cowan  in  person,  and,  to  Perry's  huge 
delight,  were  shown  in  to  his  bedside  ?  It  looked  as  though  Quin  were 
showing  unwarrantable  discrimination.  Stryker  and  the  colonel,  too, 
came  in  to  see  him,  and  the  latter  told  him  that  both  Mr.  Maitland  and 
Mr.  Ewen  had  begged  that  the  arrested  soldiers  might  not  be  punished. 
Including  Sergeant  Leary  and  Kelly,  there  were  now  twenty  men  under 
charges  more  or  less  grave  in  their  character,  and  he  had  asked  that  a 
general  court-martial  be  convened  for  their  trial.  The  colonel  deeply 
appreciated  the  feeling  displayed  by  the  stricken  proprietor  and  his 
overseer ;  he  was  touched  that  even  in  his  extreme  illness  and  prostra 
tion  Mr.  Maitland  should  intercede  for  the  men  who  had  made  so  hos 
tile  an  invasion  of  his  premises  and  brought  upon  the  inmates  of  Dun- 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  253 

raven  a  night  of  dread  and  anxiety ;  but  discipline  had  to  be  maintained, 
he  replied,  and  the  ringleaders  in  the  move  had  been  guilty  of  a  flagrant 
breach  which  could  not  be  overlooked. 

But  on  the  following  day — the  fourth  of  Perry's  stay — the  doctor 
came  down  with  a  face  full  of  gloom  and  distress.  Both  nurse  and 
patient  noted  it,  and  inquired  the  cause.  For  a  time  Quin  avoided  any 
direct  reply :  "  something  had  ruffled  him  up  at  the  post,"  he  answered  : 
"  can't  tell  you  about  it  now.  I'll  do  it  by  and  by.  I  want  to  think." 
He  examined  Perry's  leg,  dressed  and  rebandaged  the  wound,  and  then 
went  back  to  Mr.  Maitland's  room.  They  could  hear  his  voice  in  the 
hall  after  a  while,  and  Perry's  heart  began  to  throb  heavily :  he  was 
sure  the  low,  sweet  tones,  almost  inaudible,  that  came  floating  along 
the  corridor,  were  those  of  Gladys.  When  Mrs.  Cowan  spoke  to  him 
on  some  ordinary  topic,  he  impatiently  bade  her  hush, — he  could  not 
bear  to  be  disturbed, — and,  far  from  being  hurt  at  his  petulance,  Mrs. 
Cowan  smiled  softly  as  she  turned  away. 

Then  Quin  came  back,  and,  after  fidgeting  around  a  moment,  ab 
ruptly  addressed  his  patient : 

"  Perry,  do  you  remember  that  morning  you  rode  down  here  right 
after  reveille  and  met  me  on  the  trail, — or  at  least  would  have  met  me 
if  I  hadn't  dodged  and  gone  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  valley?" 

"  Certainly  I  do,  doctor." 

"  I  may  as  well  explain  that  singular  performance  first.  You  may 
have  heard  that  I  didn't  get  along  amicably  with  your  predecessors  of 
the  Eleventh.  Their  colonel  was  ass  enough  to  totally  misconstrue  the 
purpose  of  my  visits  here,  and  I  was  ass  enough  to  make  no  explana 
tion.  The  Maitlands  went  away;  I  was  not  called  for  again  while 
the  Eleventh  remained ;  and  therefore  I  said  no  more  about  it.  Mr. 
Maitland  returned  unexpectedly  soon  after  you  came,  and  the  first  I 
knew  of  it  was  the  signal-lights  telling  me  he  was  there,  ill,  and  that 
I  was  wanted.  It  was  the  night  of  the  colonel's  dinner-party.  I 
couldn't  explain  then,  and  decided  to  go  at  once  and  explain  afterwards. 
When  I  met  you  all  of  a  sudden  the  next  morning,  the  first  impulse  was 
to  get  away  out  of  your  sight,  and  I  obeyed  it  simply  because  of  the 
unpleasant  experiences  I  had  been  having  with  your  fellow-cavalrymen. 
I  did  not  want  to  have  to  answer  questions.  See  ?  I  was  ashamed  of 
it,  but  too  late  to  turn  back." 

Perry  nodded.     "  I  understand  it — now,"  he  said. 

22 


254  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

"  Well,  what  I  want  to  ask  is  about  Sergeant  Gwynne.  Did  you 
meet  him  before  you  got  back  ?" 

"  Yes, — a  mile  or  so  out  from  the  post." 

"You  stopped  and  talked  with  him,  didn't  you?" 

"  Yes, — for  several  minutes." 

Mrs.  Cowan's  needle- work  had  fallen  in  her  lap.  She  was  seated 
near  the  window,  and  had  been  busily  sewing.  Now  she  was  looking 
tip,  eager  and  intent. 

"  You've  known  him  a  long  time,  haven't  you  ?" 

"  Yes, — ever  since  he  joined.  He's  one  of  the  best  sergeants  I 
ever  knew." 

"  You  would  hardly  think  him  guilty  of  any  dishonesty,  would 
you?" 

Mrs.  Cowan  was  rising  from  her  chair ;  the  needle- work  had  fallen 
to  the  floor. 

"  Dishonesty !  Not  by  a — good  deal !"  was  the  reply  that  bade 
fair  to  be  even  more  impulsive,  and  was  checked  only  in  deference  to 
the  presence  of  a  woman. 

"  Well,  neither  would  I,  from  what  I've  seen  of  him ;  and  yet  Mr. 
Maitland's  seal  ring  was  found  on  him  last  night." 

"  My  God !     Of  course  he  could  explain  it  in  some  way?" 

"He  couldn't, — or  wouldn't.  He  simply  stood  there,  white  as  a 
sheet  except  where  those  bruises  made  him  green  and  blue.  He  had 
denied  the  charge  flatly  when  accused;  and  yet  there  it  was  in  his  chest. 
1  never  saw  any  man  so  taken  aback  as  Captain  Stryker :  he  said  he 
would  have  sworn  to  his  innocence." 

"  So  would  I ! — so  I  do,  by  Jupiter !  It's  some  foul  plot ! — 
it's " 

But  he  got  no  further.  To  his  own  amaze,  to  the  utter  bewilder 
ment  of  Dr.  Quin,  Mrs.  Cowan  precipitated  herself  upon  her  patient, 
seized  the  hand  that  lay  nearest  her  on  the  coverlet,  and  burst  forth 
into  half-articulate,  sobbing,  indignant  words,  mingled  with  kisses 
showered  passionately  on  that  astonished  hand. 

"  Oh,  bless  him  for  the  words !  Oh,  God  bless  you,  Mr.  Perry  ! 
.  .  .  Oh,  the  fools !  the  lunatics !  .  .  .  A  thief,  indeed !  .  .  .  The  idea 
of  Ats  being  accused  !  .  .  .  Oh,  God  !  what  would  his  mother  in  heaven 
say  to  this  ?  ...  As  though  he  had  not  borne  far  too  much  already ! 
.  .  .  It's  his  own — his  own  ring,  I  tell  you  !  Who  else  should  wear  it  ? 
.  .  .  Who  dare  take  it  from  him  now?  .  .  .  Oh,  the  infamy  of  it  all !" 


DUN  RAVEN  RANCH.  255 

In  her  wild  excitement,  in  her  incoherent  praise  and  lamentation 
and  wrath  and  indignation,  her  voice,  her  sobs,  rang  through  the  room 
and  out  along  the  broad  corridor.  Even  in  their  amaze  the  two  men 
heard  a  hurried  step  approaching,  a  limping,  halting,  painful  step,  yet 
rapid  and  impulsive.  Quin,  absorbed  in  his  contemplation  of  the  ex 
cited  woman,  paid  no  attention ;  Perry's  eager  eyes  were  strained  upon 
the  door- way,  where,  the  very  next  instant,  with  pallid  features  and 
startled  mien,  Gladys  Maitland  suddenly  appeared  and  stood  staring  in 
upon  the  spectacle  of  Mrs.  Cowan  kissing  and  sobbing  over  Perry's 
hand.  Already  he  had  divined  the  truth,  and  strove  to  warn  the  tear- 
blinded  woman  of  her  presence;  but  Mrs.  Cowan's  excitement  had 
increased  to  the  verge  of  hysteria  :  she  was  laughing  and  crying  now  by 
turns,  blessing  her  soldier  patient  for  his  faith  in  the  accused  sergeant, 
and  then  breaking  forth  anew  in  indignant  expletive,  "  Who  are  his 
accusers?  Who  dare  say  thief  to  him?  .  .  .  Not  one  is  fit  to  look 
him  in  the  face !  'Twas  the  very  ring  his  mother  gave  him,  ...  his 
own !  his  own  !" 

And  then  the  doctor  seized  her  and  turned  her  so  that  she  must  see 
Gladys*, — Gladys,  wild-eyed,  panting,  staring,  tottering  forward  from 
the  door-way.  One  sharp  cry  from  the  woman's  lips,  one  spring  towards 
the  reeling  form,  and  she  had  caught  the  girl  in  her  arms  : 

"  Gladys,  Gladys,  my  little  pet !  my  own  baby  girl !  Look  up  ana 
thank  God  !  I've  tried  to  keep  my  promise  and  his  secret  until  he 
released  me.  I've  tried  hard,  but  it's  all  useless  :  I  can't,  I  can't.  Oh, 
Gladys,  sweetheart,  your  mother's  smiling  down  on  us  this  day.  Who 
do  you  think  has  come  back  to  us,  safe  and  strong  and  well  and  brave  ? 
Who  but  your  own  brother,  your  own  Archie,  Gladys  ?" 

XVIII. 

"  Yes,  certainly  very  pretty, — now.  It's  such  a  pity  that  English 
women  grow  coarse  and  stout  and  red-faced  so  very  soon  after  they 
are  married."  The  speaker  was  Mrs.  Belknap,  and  her  soft  voice  was 
tuned  to  a  pitch  of  almost  pathetic  regret.  They  were  talking  of  Miss 
Maitland,  who  had  just  been  assisted  to  her  saddle  by  the  colonel,  and 
now,  followed  by  the  faithful  Griggs  and  escorted  by  Captain  Stryker, 
was  riding  away  homeward  after  a  brief  call  at  the  post.  Fort  Rossiter, 
once  so  humdrum  and  placid  and  "  stupid,"  as  the  ladies  termed  it,  had 
been  the  vortex  of  sensations  for  a  whole  fortnight,  and  one  excitement 


256  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

had  trodden  on  the  heels  of  another  with  such  rapidity  that  people  were 
growing  weary. 

Perhaps  the  happiest  man  in  garrison  was  Captain  Stryker :  he  had 
refused  to  believe  in  the  guilt  of  Sergeant  Gwynne  when  Captain  Wayne 
came  to  him  to  say  that  there  were  men  in  his  troop  who  openly  accused 
the  sergeant  of  having  that  cherished  seal-ring  secreted  in  his  chest. 
So  confident  was  he  that  he  had  gone  with  the  captain  and  Mr.  Furn- 
ham  to  the  stables  and  there  told  Gwynne  of  the  charge  against  him. 
Gwynne  flushed  hotly,  denied  the  truth  of  the  story,  but  hesitated  when 
asked  if  he  would  allow  his  chest  to  be  searched.  This  was  quickly  noted 
by  Wayne  and  Farnham,  and  the  search  was  insisted  upon.  Gwynne 
then  said  there  were  a  few  items  in  that  chest  which  he  allowed  no  one 
to  see;  he  pledged  his  soldier  word  that  they  were  nothing  but  a  paper 
or  two,  some  little  photographs,  and  a  book.  These  he  asked  permission 
to  remove  first ;  then  they  might  search.  But  Wayne  sternly  refused. 
The  sergeant  turned  very  white,  set  his  lips,  and  hesitated  still,  until 
his  own  captain  spoke ;  then  he  surrendered  his  key.  Wayne  and  Farn 
ham  bent  over  the  chest  while  the  troop  first  sergeant  rapidly  turned 
over  the  clothing,  books,  etc.,  with  trembling  hands.  There  was  a 
little  compartment  at  one  side,  in  which  were  lying  some  small  items, — 
a  pocket-compass,  a  pencil-case,  some  keys,  a  locket  and  a  neck-chain, 
and,  among  these,  something  wrapped  in  tissue-paper.  This  was  handed 
to  Captain  Wayne,  who  unrolled  the  paper,  and — there  was  a  massive 
seat-ring.  A  crest  was  cut  in  the  stone,  and,  taking  it  to  the  light, 
Wayne  was  able  to  make  out  the  motto, — "  Quod  sursum  volo  videre." 
It  was  the  ring  Maitland  had  lost. 

Stryker  looked  wonderingly  at  his  sergeant,  who  stood  there  as 
though  petrified  with  amaze  and  consternation,  pale  as  death,  and  un 
able  to  say  a  word.  Asked  to  explain  the  matter,  he  could  only  shake 
his  head,  and,  after  a  while,  hoarsely  mutter,  "  I  know  nothing  about 
it.  I  never  placed  it  there." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  never  saw  it  before  ?"  asked  Wayne, 
sternly.  And  Gwynne  was  silent. 

"  Is  this  the  first  time  you  ever  saw  it,  I  say  ?"  repeated  the  captain, 
angrily. 

"  No,  sir :  I  have  seen  it  before,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Then  you  must  have  known  'twas  stolen,  and  you  have  connived 
at  its  concealment,"  was  Wayne's  triumphant  conclusion ;  and  on  the 
report  of  his  officers  Colonel  Brainard  had  no  alternative  but  to  order 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  257 

Gwynne's  close  arrest.  Only  Stryker's  appeal  and  guarantee  saved  the 
sergeant  from  confinement  in  the  guard-house. 

The  next  sensation  was  the  sight  of  Dr.  Quin  galloping  back  to 
the  post  like  mad  and  bolting  unceremoniously  into  the  colonel's  gate. 
Then  Stryker  was  sent  for,  and  the  three  officers  held  an  excited  con 
versation.  Then  the  orderly  went  at  a  run  over  to  the  quarters,  and 
in  five  minutes  Sergeant  Gwynne,  erect  as  ever  and  dressed  with  scru 
pulous  care,  looking  anything  but  like  a  guilty  man,  was  seen  crossing 
the  parade  towards  his  colonel's  house.  The  men  swarmed  out  on  the 
porches  as  the  tidings  went  from  lip  to  lip,  and  some  of  the  Irish 
troopers  in  Wayne's  company  were  remarked  as  being  oddly  excited. 
Just  what  took  place  during  that  interview  none  could  tell,  but  in  ten 
minutes  the  news  was  flying  around  the  garrison  that  Sergeant  Gwynne 
was  released  from  arrest,  and  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  to  the  wonder 
ment  of  everybody,  he  was  seen  riding  away  towards  Dunraven  with 
Dr.  Quin,  and  for  two  days  more  did  not  reappear  at  Rossiter. 

But  when  the  story  flashed  from  house  to  house  about  the  garrison 
that  Sergeant  Gwynne  was  not  Sergeant  Gwynne  at  all,  but  Mr.  Archi 
bald  Wyndham  Quin  Maitland,  late  of  Her  Majesty's  — th  Lancers, 
and  only  surviving  son  of  the  invalid  owner  of  Dunraven  Ranch  and 
other  valuable  properties,  the  amaze  amounted  to  almost  stupefaction. 
It  was  known  that  old  Mr.  Maitland  was  lying  desperately  weak  and 
ill  the  day  that  Quin  the  doctor  came  riding  back.  All  manner  of 
stories  were  told  regarding  the  affecting  nature  of  the  interview  in 
which  the  long-lost  son  was  restored  to  his  overjoyed  father,  but,  like 
most  stories,  they  were  purely  the  offspring  of  imagination,  for  at  that 
interview  only  three  were  present :  Gladys  led  her  brother  to  the  room 
and  closed  the  door,  while  good  Mrs.  Cowan  stood  weeping  for  joy 
down  the  long  corridor,  and  Dr.  Quin  blinked  his  eyes  and  fussed  and 
fidgeted  and  strode  around  Perry's  room  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
exploding  every  now  and  then  into  sudden  comment  on  the  romantic 
nature  of  the  situation  and  the  idiocy  of  some  people  there  at  Rossiter. 
"  Joy  does  not  kill,"  he  said :  "  Maitland  would  have  been  a  dead  man 
by  the  end  of  the  week,  but  for  this :  it  will  give  him  a  new  lease  of 
life." 

And  it  did.  Though  the  flame  was  feeble  and  flickering,  it  was 
fanned  by  a  joy  unutterable.  The  boy  whom  the  stricken  father  be 
lieved  his  stubborn  pride  and  condemnation  had  driven  to  despair  and 
suicide  was  restored  to  him  in  the  prime  of  manly  strength,  all  tender- 

22* 


258  DUy  RAVEN  RANCH. 


ness,  all  forgiveness,  and  Maitland's  whole  heart  went  up  in  thanks 
giving.  He  begged  that  Brainard  and  Stiyker  would  come  to  him, 
that  he  might  thank  them  for  their  faith  in  his  son  ;  he  bade  the  doctor 
say  to  Perry  that  the  moment  he  could  be  lifted  from  his  bed  he  would 
come  to  clasp  his  hand  and  bless  him  for  being  a  far  better  friend  to 
his  son  than  he  had  been  a  father. 

The  sergeant's  return  to  the  post  was  the  signal  for  a  general  turn 
out  on  the  part  of  the  men,  all  of  whom  were  curious  to  see  how  he 
would  appear  now  that  his  identity  was  established.  Of  course  hi.s 
late  assailants  could  not  join  in  the  crowd  that  thronged  about  him, 
but  they  listened  with  eagerness  to  everything  that  was  told.  "  He 
was  just  the  same  as  ever,"  said  all  accounts.  He  had  never  been 
intimate  with  any  of  them,  but  always  friendly  and  kind.  One  thing 
went  the  rounds  like  lightning. 

"  You'll  be  getting  your  discharge  now,  sergeant,"  said  Mrs.  Reed, 
the  voluble  wife  of  the  leader  of  the  band,  "  and  taking  up  your  resi 
dence  at  the  ranch,  I  suppose.  Of  course  the  British  minister  can  get 
it  for  you  in  a  minute." 

"Not.  a  bit  of  it,  Mrs.  Reed,"  was  the  laughing  answer.  "I  en 
listed  to  serve  Uncle  Sam  five  years,  and  he's  been  too  good  a  friend  to 
me  to  turn  from.  I  shall  serve  out  my  time  with  the  —  th." 

And  the  sergeant  was  true  to  his  word.  If  old  Maitland  could 
have  prevailed,  an  application  for  his  son's  discharge  would  have  gone 
to  Washington  ;  but  this  the  soldier  positively  forbade.  He  had  eight 
months  still  to  serve,  and  he  meant  to  carry  out  his  contract  to  the 
letter.  Stryker  offered  him  a  furlough,  and  Gwynne  thankfully  took 
a  week,  that  he  might  be  by  his  father's  side  and  help  nurse  him  to 
better  health.  "  By  that  time,  too,  the  garrison  will  have  grown  a  little 
more  accustomed  to  it,  sir,  and  I  will  have  less  embarrassment  in  going 
on  with  my  work." 

Two  days  before  his  return  to  duty  there  came  a  modified  sensation 
in  the  shape  of  the  report  that  a  trooper  of  Wayne's  company  had 
deserted.  He  was  a  man  who  had  borne  a  bad  reputation  as  a  turbu 
lent,  mischief-making  fellow,  and  when  Sergeant  Leary  heard  of  his 
going  he  was  in  a  state  of  wild  excitement.  He  begged  to  be  allowed 
to  see  his  captain,  and  to  him  he  confessed  that  one  of  his  little  party 
of  three  had  seen  the  ring  drop  from  Mr.  Maitland's  finger  the  night 
of  the  first  visit  to  Dunraven,  had  managed  to  pick  it  up  and  carry  it 
away  in  the  confusion,  and  had  shown  it  to  Uis  friend  in  Wayne's  troop 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  259 

when  they  got  back.  The  latter  persuaded  him  to  let  him  take  it,  as 
the  lockers  of  the  men  who  were  at  Dunraven  were  sure,  he  said,  to  be 
searched.  It  was  known  that  he  had  a  grudge  against  Gwynne ;  he 
was  one  of  the  men  who  was  to  have  gone  to  the  ranch  the  night  they 
purposed  riding  down  and  challenging  the  Englishmen  to  come  out  and 
fight,  but  had  unaccountably  failed  at  the  last  moment.  They  believed 
that  he  had  chosen  that  night  to  hide  the  ring  in  the  sergeant's  chest : 
he  could  easily  have  entered  through  the  window.  And  this  explana 
tion — the  only  one  ever  made — became  at  once  accepted  as  the  true  one 
throughout  the  garrison. 

During  the  week  of  his  furlough  the  sergeant  found  time  to  spend 
many  hours  by  the  bedside  of  Lieutenant  Perry,  who  was  rapidly  re 
covering,  and  who  by  the  end  of  the  week  had  been  lifted  into  an  easy 
invalid-chair  and  wheeled  in  to  see  Mr.  Maitland.  When  not  with 
Mr.  Perry,  the  young  trooper's  tongue  was  ever  wagging  in  his  praise. 
He  knew  many  a  fine  officer  and  gallant  gentleman  in  the  service  of 
the  old  country,  he  said,  and  he  admired  many  a  captain  and  subaltern 
in  that^of  his  adopted  land,  but  the  first  one  to  \vhom  he  "  warmed" — 
the  first  one  to  win  his  affection — was  the  young  cavalryman  who  had 
met  his  painful  wound  in  their  defence.  Old  Maitland  listened  to  it 
all  eagerly, — he  had  already  given  orders  that  the  finest  thoroughbred  at 
Dunraven  should  be  Perry's  the  moment  he  was  able  to  mount  again, 
— and  he  was  constantly  revolving  in  mind  how  he  could  show  his  ap 
preciation  of  the  officers  who  had  befriended  his  son.  Mrs.  Cowan,  too, 
never  tired  of  hearing  Perry's  praises,  and  eagerly  questioned  when  the 
narrator  flagged.  There  was  another  absorbed  auditor,  who  never  ques 
tioned,  and  who  listened  with  downcast  eyes.  It  was  she  who  seldom 
came  near  Perry  during  his  convalescence,  she  who  startled  and  aston 
ished  the  young  fellow  beyond  measure,  the  day  the  ambulance  came 
down  to  drive  him  back  to  the  fort,  by  withdrawing  the  hand  he  had 
impulsively  seized  when  at  last  she  appeared  to  bid  him  adieu,  and 
cutting  short  his  eager  words  with  "  Mrs.  Belknap  will  console  you,  I 
dare  say,"  and  abruptly  leaving  the  room. 

Poor  Ned  !  In  dire  distress  and  perplexity  he  was  driven  back  to 
Rossiter,  and  that  very  evening  he  did  a  most  sensible  and  fortunate 
thing :  he  told  Mrs.  Sprague  all  about  it ;  and,  instead  of  condoling 
with  him  and  bidding  him  strive  to  be  patient  and  saying  that  all 
\vould  come  right  in  time,  the  little  woman's  kind  eyes  shone  with  de 
light,  her  cheeks  flushed  wivh  genuine  pleasure ;  she  fairly  sprang  from 


260  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

her  chair,  and  danced  up  and  down  and  clapped  her  hands  and  laughed 
with  glee,  and  then,  when  Perry  ruefully  asked  her  if  that  was  the 
sympathy  he  had  a  right  to  expect  from  her,  she  only  laughed  the  more, 
and  at  last  broke  forth  with, — 

"  Oh,  you  great,  stupid,  silly  boy  !  You  ought  to  be  wild  with 
happiness.  Can't  you  see  she's  jealous  ?" 

And  the  very  next  day  she  had  a  long  talk  with  Dr.  Quin,  whose 
visits  to  Dunraven  still  continued;  and  one  bright  afternoon  when 
Gladys  Maitland  rode  up  to  the  fort  to  return  calls,  she  managed  to 
have  quite  a  chat  with  her,  despite  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Belknap  showed  r 
strong  desire  to  accompany  that  fair  English  girl  in  all  three  of  her 
visits.  In  this  effort,  too,  the  diplomatic  services  of  Captain  Stryker 
proved  rather  too  much  for  the  beauty  of  the  garrison.  Was  it  possible 
that  Mrs.  Sprague  had  enlisted  him  also  in  the  good  cause?  Certain 
it  is  that  the  dark-featured  captain  was  Miss  Maitland's  escort  as  she 
left  the  garrison,  and  that  it  was  with  the  consciousness  of  impending 
defeat  that  Mrs.  Belknap  gave  utterance  to  the  opening  sentence  of  this 
chapter :  Mr.  Perry  had  distinctly  avoided  her  ever  since  his  return. 

One  lovely  evening  late  in  May  Mr.  Perry  was  taking  his  first  ride 
on  the  new  horse,  a  splendid  bay,  and  a  perfect  match  for  Gladys  Mait 
land's  favorite  mount.  Already  had  this  circumstance  excited  smiling 
comment  in  the  garrison  ;  but  if  the  young  man  himself  had  noted  the 
close  resemblance  it  conveyed  no  blissful  augury.  Everybody  remarked 
that  he  had  lost  much  of  his  old  buoyancy  and  life;  and  it  must  be 
confessed  he  was  not  looking  either  blithe  or  well.  Parke  had  sug 
gested  riding  with  him, — an  invitation  which  Perry  treated  so  coldly 
that  the  junior  stopped  to  think  a  moment,  and  began  to  see  through 
the  situation ;  and  so  Mr.  Perry  was  suffered  to  set  forth  alone  that 
evening,  and  no  one  was  surprised  when,  after  going  out  of  the  west 
gate  as  though  bent  on  riding  up  the  Monee,  he  was  presently  seen  to 
have  made  the  circuit  of  the  post  and  was  slowly  cantering  down  to 
wards  the  lower  valley.  Out  on  the  eastern  prairie  another  horseman 
could  be  seen  ;  and  presently  the  two  came  together.  Colonel  Brainard 
took  down  his  binocular  and  gazed  out  after  them. 

"  I  declare,"  said  he,  "  those  two  figures  are  so  much  alike  I  cannot 
tell  which  of  them  is  Perry." 

"  Then  the  other  is  Sergeant  Gwynne,  colonel,"  said  Stryker,  quiet!}. 
"  Put  him  in  our  uniform,  and  it  would  indeed  be  hard  to  tell  the  two 


DUNEAVEN  RANCH.  261 

figures  apart.  Mr.  Maitland  told  me  last  week  that  that  was  what  so 
startled  and  struck  him  the  first  time  he  saw  Perry." 

"  How  is  Mr.  Maitland  now,  do  you  know  ?" 

"  He  gets  no  better.  After  the  first  week  of  joy  and  thanksgiving 
over  his  boy's  restoration  to  him,  the  malady  seemed  to  reassert  itself 
Dunraven  will  have  a  new  master  by  winter,  I  fancy." 

The  colonel  was  silent  a  moment.     Then  he  suddenly  asked, — 

"  By  the  way,  how  was  it  that  Gwynne  wasn't  drowned  ?  I  never 
understood  that." 

"  He  never  meant  to  be,"  said  Stryker.  "  He  told  Perry  all  about 
it.  He  was  ruined,  he  thought,  in  his  profession  and  his  own  country, 
and  he  knew  his  father's  inexorable  pride  :  so  he  simply  decided  to  put 
an  end  to  Archie  Maitland  and  start  a  new  life  for  himself.  He  wrote 
his  letters  and  arranged  his  property  with  that  view,  and  called  the 
steward  to  enable  him  to  swear  he  was  in  his  state-room  after  the 
steamer  weighed  anchor.  Then  in  a  jiffy  he  was  over  the  side  in  the 
darkness ;  it  was  flood-tide,  and  he  was  an  expert  swimmer ;  he  reached 
a  coasting-vessel  lying  near;  he  had  money,  bought  his  passage  to 
France,  after  a  few  days  at  Cape  Town,  and  then  came  to  America  and 
enlisted.  He  got  a  confession  out  of  one  of  the  irregulars  who  was 
with  him,  Perry  says,  and  that  was  one  of  the  papers  he  was  guarding 
so  jealously.  He  had  given  others  to  Perry  that  very  night." 

"  They  seemed  to  take  to  each  other  like  brothers  from  the  start," 
said  the  colonel,  with  a  quiet  smile. 

"  Just  about,"  answered  Captain  Stryker. 

Meantime,  Perry  and  Sergeant  Gwynne  have  been  riding  slowly 
down  the  valley.  Night  has  come  upon  Dunraven  by  the  hour  they 
reach  the  northern  gate, — no  longer  closed  against  them, — and  as  they 
near  the  house  Perry  slowly  dismounts.  "  I'll  take  the  horses  to  the 
stable  myself :  I  want  to,"  says  his  trooper  friend,  and  for  the  second 
time  the  young  officer  stands  upon  the  veranda  at  the  door- way,  then 
holds  his  hand  as  he  hears  again  the  soft  melody  of  the  piano  floating 
out  upon  the  still  night-air.  Slowly  and  not  without  pain  he  walks 
around  to  the  east  front,  striving  to  move  with  noiseless  steps.  At  last 
he  stands  by  the  open  casement,  just  where  he  had  paused  in  surprise 
that  night  a  month  agone,  and,  slowly  drawing  aside  one  heavy  fold 
of  curtain,  gazes  longingly  in  at  Gladys  Maitland,  seated  there  at  the 
piano,  just  where  he  first  saw  her  lovely  face  and  form.  Her  fingers 
are  wandering  idly  over  the  keys,  playing  little  fragmentary  snatches, 


262  DUNRAVEN  RANCH. 

— first  one  melody,  then  another;  her  sweet  blue  eyes  are  fixed  on 
vacancy, — she  sees  nothing  in  that  room,  or  near  it ;  she  is  paler  than 
when  he  first  looked  upon  her,  and  there  are  traces  of  deep  anxiety  and 
of  some  hidden  sorrow  in  the  fair,  fresh  face.  Presently,  under  the 
soft  touch  of  her  fingers,  a  sweet,  familiar  melody  comes  rippling  forth. 
He  remembers  it  instantly ;  it  is  the  same  he  heard  the  night  of  his 
first  visit, — that  exquisite  "Spring  Song"  of  Mendelssohn's, — and  he 
listens,  spell-bound.  All  of  a  sudden  the  sweet  strains  are  broken  off, 
the  music  ceases ;  she  has  thrown  herself  forward,  bowed  her  queenly 
head  upon  her  arms,  and,  leaning  over  the  key-board,  her  form  is 
shaken  by  a  storm  of  passionate  tears.  Perry  hurls  aside  the  shelter 
ing  curtain  and  limps  rapidly  across  the  soft  and  noiseless  rug.  She 
never  dreams  of  his  presence  until,  close  at  her  side,  a  voice  she  has 
learned  to  know  and  know  well — a  voice  tremulous  with  love,  sympa 
thy,  and  yearning — murmurs  only  her  name,  "Gladys,"  and,  starting 
up,  she  looks  one  instant  into  his  longing  eyes. 

Sergeant  "  Gwynne"  Maitland,  lifting  the  heavy  portiere  a  moment 
later,  stops  short  at  the  entrance,  gazes  one  second  at  the  picturesque 
scene  at  the  piano,  drops  the  parti&re,  and  vanishes,  unnoticed. 

Things  seem  changed  at  Dunraven  of  late  years.  The  — th  are 
still  at  Rossiter ;  so  is  Lieutenant  Perry.  It  may  be  the  climate,  or 
association  with  an  American  sisterhood,  or — who  knows? — perhaps 
somebody  has  told  her  of  Mrs.  Belknap's  prediction,  but  Mrs.  Perry 
has  not  yet  begun  to  grow  coarse,  red-faced,  or  stout.  She  is  wonder 
fully  popular  with  the  ladies  of  the  — th,  and  has  found  warm  friends 
among  them,  but  Mrs.  Sprague  of  the  infantry  is  the  woman  she 
particularly  fancies,  and  her  gruff  old  kinsman  Dr.  Quin  is  ever  a 
welcome  guest  at  their  fireside.  It  was  he,  she  told  her  husband  long 
after,  who  undid  the  mischief  Mrs.  Belknap  had  been  able  to  sow  in 
one  brief  conversation.  "  I've  known  that  young  woman  ever  since 
she  wore  pinafores,  Gladys.  She  has  some  good  points,  too,  but  her 
one  idiosyncrasy  is  that  every  man  she  meets  should  bow  down  to  and 
worship  her.  She  is  an  Alexander  in  petticoats,  sighing  for  new  worlds 
to  conquer,  has  been  a  coquette  from  the  cradle,  and — what  she  can't 
forgive  in  Ned  Perry  is  that  he  simply  did  not  fall  in  love  with  her 
as  she  thought  he  had." 

Down  at  Dunraven  the  gates  are  gone,  the  doors  are  ever  hospitably 
open.  Ewen  is  still  manager  de  jure,  but  young  Mr.  Maitland,  the 


DUNRAVEN  RANCH.  263 

proprietor,  is  manager  de  Jacto,  and,  though  there  is  constant  going 
and  coming  between  the  fort  and  the  ranch,  and  the  officers  of  the  — th 
ride  in  there  at  all  hours,  what  makes  the  ranchman  so  popular  among 
the  rank  and  file  is  the  fact  that  Sergeant  "  Gwynne,"  as  they  still  call 
him,  has  a  warm  place  in  his  heart  for  one  and  all,  and  every  year 
when  the  date  of  his  enlistment  in  the  — th  comes  round  he  gives  a 
barbecue  dinner  to  the  men,  whereat  there  are  feasting  and  drinking  of 
healths  and  song  and  speech-making,  and  Leary  and  Donovan  and  even 
the  recreant  Kelly  are  apt  to  be  boisterously  prominent  on  such  occasions, 
but  blissfully  so, — for  there  hasn't  been  a  shindy  of  any  kind  since 
their  old  comrade  stepped  into  his  possessions  at  Dunraven  Ranch. 


THE   END. 


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